Another Day
by AdenaMentzel
Summary: Maureen and Roger are haunted by their painful past and the life they could have had...set during and postRENT w flashbacks
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Maureen? What's this?" I sighed. Mark had found a box of my things from high school, and when I walked into the room, I discovered that he was holding a picture of me, dressed as Dorothy after a performance of _The Wizard of Oz_, looking very contented, standing next to a rocker with crazy bleach-blonde hair and bright green eyes. I laughed as I remembered that relationship, and how fucked up my life had been.

"That picture got taken after a really hard week. There are a lot of things that I haven't told you about, Marky. Maybe some other time," I put the box and photo aside, and straddled him, planting a passionate kiss on him, which effectively changed the topic and made him blush, but I couldn't help but recall myself as a troubled teen…

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I sat there in my bedroom, blasting the bad rock music that my mother despised (despite the fact that she was never home to hate it), lying in the arms of a man that I despised. I supposed that I deserved it, being the hopeless flirt that I was. He had raped me, he was older than I was- 28 and I was 16. I had thought, in my apparent ignorance, that I was in control; that he couldn't make me do anything that I didn't want to. But he did. Now there was blood on my sheets, my virginity was decimated, my thighs and shoulders bruised. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. But he had said that he loved me. Nobody had ever said that to me before, and I couldn't tell whether or not it was sincere, but it felt that way at the time.

I was such an idiot—how could this have possibly happened to me? I need to talk to someone. I need to get this monster out of my bedroom. As if on cue, he woke up at that moment, hastily threw on his clothes, and climbed out my window discretely, though I doubted that it really mattered since my parents weren't due home for another couple hours, as both of them worked ridiculously late. It wasn't like they cared about me anyway. I'd smoked pot, drank, and as of tonight, had sex in their house, and they didn't even care. This crazy maniac could've murdered me and they wouldn't care. My father would just find a way to work my tragic death into his campaign in order to make more people vote for him in the next election. I quickly threw my dirty sheets in the fireplace and lit them up, wanting to do away with them completely, but didn't bother to put clean ones on the bed.

I wracked my brain, trying to think of somebody that I could call…somebody to talk to, but it occurred to me that my only friend was Roger. He wouldn't care. He was too crude and too much of a Neanderthal. I loved him as a friend, when I was going out, to have fun with, but I certainly did not want to tell him that I had "finally had my cherry popped", as he would so tastefully put it. But I didn't want to be alone—couldn't be alone, it was too painful. If I were with someone else, I would be able to act happy, be my usual self, the drama queen that I was meant to be. I didn't want to smoke either. I wanted to escape in come capacity, but right at this moment, I felt numb and hollow, only with a dull soreness throughout my body. I went up to the fire, retrieving the lighter, telling myself that it was just to make sure that my little brother didn't find it, and ran back up to my room, into the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror—I looked horrible, and I smelled of the vile man. I put the lighter down beside the sink, and filled the tub with water. I soaked, lost in my thoughts, until I suddenly realized how incredibly cold the water had become. I drained the tub, and dried myself off, but then realized I hadn't washed myself. Sighing, I turned on the shower, and the head spat out scalding hot water, which scalded my skin.

"FUCK! Does the world really hate me this much?" I exclaimed, to the overwhelming mass of nobody that was looming over me. _I guess so_. I was shaving my legs when there was a knock at the door, and startled I sliced my ankle very deeply. _SHIT!_ I tried to make it stop bleeding, but it didn't work so I gave up, grabbing my towel as the knocking became more intense, and unlocked my door quickly.

"Shit Maureen! What's going on around here?" It was Roger. Shocked, I almost fell over the various piles of crap lying on the floor.

"Huh?"

"Maureen! Your fucking house was on fire!"

"WHAT?"

"Well, okay, only the kitchen, but poor Benji freaked out and called me. I don't know why me…"

"Oh my God is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine, I put the fire out, there wasn't much damage—thank God I only live two doors down from you! He's next door now, playing with Johnny, because he was freaked. Maureen, this isn't like you—Benji's the most important thing in your life! You love him more than any of those drugs and shit that you do! What the fuck is going on?" By this point I was sobbing, and still frantically trying to get my ankle to stop bleeding, but avoiding his eyes at all costs. He lifted my chins so that I had nowhere else to look, and I dropped my towel accidentally, forgetting it was there. He looked me over, seeing my bruises, and the cut on my ankle, which I was swiping at frantically, and his eyes filled with concern.

"Maureen…"

"WHAT? What the fuck do you want from me?"

"He raped you." My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe that he could see right through me, that he knew what had happened. I fell to the floor, naked, sobbing.

He closed and locked the door, and came to join me on the floor, holding me. He was consoling me, but being the teenage boy that he was, his hands eventually landed on my breasts, which had "blossomed", so to speak, only very recently. He looked cautiously into my eyes, not wanting to hurt me. I moved in closer to him, and covered his mouth with my own, pressing down hard on him, kissing him passionately. He responded, and pulled me closer, if that was at all possible. I felt him go hard between my legs, which excited and scared me at the same time, but hungrily I pulled his pants off as he pulled his black t-shirt off hastily. We moved together, and it felt so natural. I moaned and wailed with passion, actually enjoying it, and I climaxed. I hadn't even known something such as that was possible, but now saw why people loved sex so much. We lay there, cuddling, for hours, every now and again he would pull me closer or kiss me, he was so sensitive yet passionate—a Roger that I hadn't seen in a long time, and would never likely see in public again.

I used to be so close to Roger, we were, after all, best friends, but he didn't used to be ashamed of being seen with me before high school. But when his band became really popular at school, and he earned his crude reputation, he never wanted to be seen with me. Until recently, I had been very awkward looking, without many friends, and a little bit too over the top for him. I was loud and opinionated, but I had no other friends. I was a social creature, but I was an outcast because of how open I was, and was actually despised by most people in our school. He even tortured me at school, but would always come over late at night to make sure I was okay, and to talk. We had had many heart-to-hearts over the years, which I didn't tell anyone else (because he told me he would kill me), though I highly doubted that anybody would believe me—they would just think that I was delusional.

The reason that Roger spent the night so frequently was that his mother was an alcoholic, and his father abusive, which I knew contributed to his hard, cold exterior. Reading people's body language and emotions had always been one of my talents, and I loved to people watch, which I always thought explained my talent as an actress, and the reason that I was usually the star of the school plays and musicals. We both hated our families, and I always felt that it was my duty to take care of him, to make sure he was okay and wouldn't go kill them or something stupid like that. He loved his mother, but his father was awful and had almost killed Roger a couple of times. My parents hadn't ever approved of me hanging out with Roger because of this, but when they realized that I didn't have any other friends, and that they didn't like anything else about my life, they just sort of gave up. I was always worried about Roger, and even though he was so cruel to me, I forgave him because he needed me so much. He didn't mean to be so mean and rough around the edges, but I didn't think that he had ever known what it was like to be loved.

The town that we lived in wasn't affluent, but I lived in what was basically a mansion, I only lived here because my father was, as I already mentioned, trying to win more votes. Drug use, violence, rape, sex, and alcoholism were something that every one of us encountered every day, and my parents were some of the very few in the town who strongly disapproved, but their judgments of the rest of the people in the town made me disagree with them and protest everything having to do with my father's corrupt point of view, and thus politics. They should have lived in a perfect neighborhood out of the Stepford Wives or something—because they were just that kind of people. Well, except for the fact that my mom had a job.

We had had very dysfunctional childhoods, and I tried so hard to make that better for my brother, though he resented me for it. He really didn't like me, especially since I hated Mommy so much. He didn't understand what was wrong with the superior air that my parents had towards everyone, even people who had higher status than they did. Still, I didn't give up on him, and I was determined that I never would.

When I woke up the next morning, I was still unclothed, as was Roger, who was still holding me close, and my mother was threatening to break the door down, so I freaked.

"Roger get the fuck out of here—she's gonna explode!"

"Mo—are you gonna be okay?"

"Probably not. We'll talk about it later. Wait for me under the bleachers—we'll cut, okay? I'm going to need you. Now get the fuck out before the door opens!" He quickly threw his clothes on, as did I, and he jumped out the window skillfully, as he had done so many times before. I made sure he made it down okay, and unlocked the door.

"MAUREEN! What happened to the kitchen? How could you let that happen? I told you not burn the house down! What are you doing? You were supposed to watch your brother, not almost make him burn to death, then give him over to the neighbors! I thought you knew better than that! Are you listening me? This is not…" I tuned my mother out, as I always did, although I basically heard everything that she said, not because I was directly listening, but because I had heard similar things so frequently in the past. When I used to try to be the good girl, I got the same sort of response. I never understood why they bothered to have me in the first place. My little brother was ten years younger than I was, so I couldn't help but feel that I was a mistake, and my parents didn't believe in putting kids up for adoption because it seemed "too irresponsible".

When she left, I got ready to go to school, fussing with makeup to try to make my bruises, et cetera look less offensive. It didn't really work, but I was sort of glowing anyway, because of the glorious experience that I had following the nightmare. I ran quickly out the door, so that my mother wouldn't make me sit down to another painful breakfast, and caught up to Roger about halfway to the school.

"Hey babe."

"The Almighty Roger Davis is speaking to me in public now?" I asked, partly joking, but honestly curious.

"You wanna be my girl, Mo?" _There we go, the crude terminology again. But it was kinda hot…_

"Hell yeah."

"Cool."

"Cool." We walked for a couple of blocks in silence, but holding hands and smiling every now and again.

After a few minutes, when we were almost to the school, I stopped.

"Hey Rog?"

"Yeah babe?" I blushed a little, but then got serious.

"Uh…I think I oughta go to the hospital. You know, make sure I'm not pregnant or anything…you know…from that creep." He looked into my eyes, with a kind, caring, concerned expression, and then kissed me tenderly.

"Anything you want, baby."

"Thanks Rog."

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"Hey honey, I'm home!" I snapped back into reality. Mark was looking very afraid in his nudity, and very guilty in having just had sex with a "lesbian", though I kept telling him that I was bi.

"Hey Joanne!" I had established with Joanne that Mark was coming over to talk that day, because we hadn't spent much time together since I broke up with him, and I missed him. Plus I wanted to straighten some things out with him. I hadn't intended to fuck him, but I knew that I would probably end up at least making out with him. He was, after all, my Marky.

"Mark still here?"

"Yes, Joanne, I'm still here." Mark was uncomfortable struggling into his clothes as he responded. I got my clothes on with ease, and smiled at him. He was so cute. Joanne, perhaps out of fear, didn't come anywhere near the bedroom, instead she called back,

"I'm going to get some dinner for the three of us. Yes, Mark, you are staying for dinner."

"Thanks, Joanne. Peanut butter and Cap'n Crunch get old after a while." I could almost feel her cringe from the other room, and laughed. Mark stared at me, "What?"

"Nothing. It just occurred to me that it isn't entirely impossible to hear somebody cringe." He looked puzzled.

"That doesn't make sense." Joanne announced that she was leaving, and we indicated that we had heard her, and we would see her when she returned. Mark continued to stare at my pictures, which there were many of in the huge shoebox that my knee-high leather boots had come in…

"So Maureen, what were you like in high school?"

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We walked the rest of the way to school, because it would have been really hard to walk to the hospital. Even though Roger had his license, he didn't have a car, which wasn't surprising because his parents rarely had jobs, although sometimes his mom prostituted herself, she usually used the money for drugs and booze, and sometimes to pay the bills. Electricity wasn't ever taken for granted in his house.

"Yo! Tommy!" I spotted the older black boy, who Roger was addressing. He looked scholarly, like he belonged in college, which, as it turned out, was true. He was a student teacher, who had formerly lived in this town before I moved in, when he went to college. He seemed sweet enough, and Roger had informed me that he was gay, and one of the kindest people that you would ever be lucky enough to meet.

"Hey Rog. What's up? Got a new girl, I see?"

"Yeah. Not some bimbo this time, though—don't give me that face—this girl's amazing. Tom Collins, this is Maureen Johnson, my best friend and girlfriend. Maureen? This is Tom Collins, teacher extraordinaire—or on his way to being there, anyway. He's gonna change the world." We exchanged greetings, and Roger got down to the point.

"Tom? Mo got raped last night, and we need to use your car so that I can take her to the hospital. Can we borrow it?"

"You guys are gonna cut school?"

"Collins…a guy who is 12 years older than her, and a real creep raped her. We really need to get to the hospital." Tom seemed to suddenly comprehend what Roger was saying, and immediately handed over the keys.

"Lemme know how it goes okay? Catch you two later! I gotta get to teaching these couch potatoes." We said our goodbyes, and quickly got into the car, and Roger drove to the hospital.

"Baby?"

"Yeah, Maureen?"

"I'm fucking scared. What the hell am I gonna do if this guy got me knocked up?"

"Maureen, I'm sure you'll be fine. Even if you are pregnant, the doctors will take care of it—you got raped. They can give you that pill or something. I don't think that it's really considered an abortion if you got raped…"

"Can you stop saying that word?" I shuddered at his mention of what had happened to me, couldn't bring myself to say the word "rape", and then I started to cry as the magnitude of what had happened the night before finally began to take effect. Roger looked scared at the intensity of my sobbing, and pulled over on the side of the road.

"Oh fuck. Look at me I'm a mess! You must hate me. You probably just want to get out of here. You didn't know what the fuck you got yourself into. Surprise! I'm a joy to have around. I get fucked by creeps, get stoned and drunk, almost kill my brother without fucking noticing it." He tried to soothe me, held me as close as the car would allow.

"Hey, sweetie, it's gonna be okay. I'm not going anywhere, Mo, so don't even think like that! I love you more than I have ever loved anybody in my life. Granted, that scares me a little, but I'm not going to leave you-- especially not at a time like this. I'm worried about you." I tried to breathe deeply, and calm myself down. It took a couple of minutes, but I was in control again, so he continued to drive. Five minutes later he announced that we had arrived, and I froze.

"Babe, are you okay?" I didn't hear him the first several times that he inquired, but eventually I snapped back to reality.

"As okay as I'm ever gonna be…but that's him!" I indicated a rather smashing looking doctor who was entering the building, "FUCK! I can't go in there!"

"Mo, it's okay. We'll go to a different hospital. It's only like thirty minutes from here. Calm down." I sighed and submitted to his requests.

"Let's go Rog."

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"Maureen! Mark! I'm back!"

"Hey Joanne! We'll be there in a minute!" Mark turned to address me, "Maureen? You in there? You okay?" I was crying, but I hadn't noticed at the time because I was lost in the past.

"Oh yeah. I'm fine. The past haunts me. Let's eat!"

"You're gonna tell me about this stuff right? The ghosts from your past?"

"I'm working on it. There's just one person I have to talk to first. Let's go eat. Then I'll come by the loft tomorrow. I need to talk to Roger."

"Roger?"

"Like I said, I have to talk to him. Then I'll tell you everything. We'll all probably have to discuss this stuff. But don't jump to any conclusions."

"Are you guys coming or what?"

"Coming, Pookie!" I yelled, as I put on a happy face and bounced off the bed to the kitchen, leaving a very confused Marky in the dust.

Later that night, after Mark had left, I couldn't be intimate with Joanne. I tried to kiss her, I tried, but I was too lost in my horrible past. I had done my best to keep these nightmares out of my mind ever since they happened, which was hard given that Roger ended up being Mark's best friend and now pretty much despised me, but I had succeeded in doing it—until today, when Mark opened that box of everything Roger had ever given me…and the pictures…we were so happy…

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We got to the hospital about 45 minutes later, because Roger had gotten a little bit lost, but I didn't mind spending extra time with him, as he was the only person that I really cared about in the world other than my brother. I was grateful for this relationship, more than I could ever possibly express to anyone, including Roger. But somehow I got the impression that he understood and felt similarly.

The hospital was scary, cold, too bright, too clean. I had never seen a gynecologist before, and didn't like the idea of people sticking Q-tips and metal instruments in my vagina. I sent one of the cold metal objects flying across the floor because my muscles were so tensed up and I was freaking out. Roger held my hand the whole time, and I probably did some permanent damage to his hand, but I was so scared. I never wanted to see that building again. When it was all over, I found out that I didn't have any gross diseases, nor was I pregnant, and rejoiced. Later that day, for the only time in my life, I was happy to feel the warm, disgusting red liquid between my legs. Yay! My period! Roger was less pleased, but understanding. That and we had sex in one of the janitor's closets once we got back to school, before my Auntie Flo came to visit, so it wasn't such a big deal.

Later, we took my brother out for ice cream, since I felt bad about almost burning him to death, and also for leaving him alone after school, because we were fucking in the janitors' closet. But it _was_ great sex.

As soon as I was seen at school making out with Roger, I immediately became the most envied girl in school. It was nice. For the most part I was very loyal to Roger, because he deserved it. Until one night, I was at this party after one of Roger's gigs, and I wanted to go home, but Rog told me to wait for him and we would go home together. By this point, we had been together for about a year and a half. The guy was probably almost seven feet tall and a football player, and probably both drunk and stoned. I didn't want to do it, and I hated football players—I was even protesting the stupidity of the jocks this week. Apparently he found that hot. I couldn't find Roger anywhere, and I was trying to get him to take me home, to tell him about this guy who was harassing me, but I was powerless and he was huge. He carried me upstairs into one of the rooms in the house that the party was at, and he fucked me. I wasn't exactly submissive, but I felt like Roger had abandoned me, so I didn't really object. Somehow he made me climax, even though I was trying not to enjoy it, trying to get away. This guy was violent. He hit me, bit me, even bruised and ripped up my vagina, so it was miraculous that I did climax, because the overall experience was so painful. I was bleeding when he finished with me, and I couldn't move. I found myself sobbing on the floor, feeling even more violated than when that creepy doctor had stolen my virginity from me. I thought that I would die there, bleeding on the floor. Roger never came for me. I felt betrayed, I felt as though he didn't care for me. It was unfair. I ran back to my house, distraught. When I got to my room, I sobbed for hours. I couldn't sleep, and then by the time I was supposed to be at school, I couldn't bring myself to go.

I glanced down at the massive scar on my ankle from when Roger had almost given me a heart attack. _Roger_. I absently liberated a fresh razor blade from my medicine cabinet. _Roger made me cut myself. Roger made me hurt. Roger made me cut. Roger made me hurt myself._ My thoughts were fuzzy. I had a miserable hangover, though I still felt drunk and mildly high. It didn't occur to me what I was doing. I saw a lot of red…then everything went black.

I woke up in my own bed, not knowing how I had gotten there. I felt a warm hand on my hair, and my eyes fluttered open.

"ROGER! What the fuck are you doing here? Where were you? You abandoned me and he…he…argh! GET OUT!"

"Shh…honey. Look at yourself. You're a mess." I looked down to see the bruises that the jock had left, and various gashes in my arms and abdomen, but none of them were deep enough that I would have died. Just enough to hurt like a bitch. I started sobbing, apologizing, but suddenly pushed him away.

"Roger! He fucked me and you don't fucking care do you? DO YOU?"

"Who fucked you? Did you fucking cheat on me? What the fuck Maureen?"

"No you dipshit he raped me! Dennis! You know big, muscular jock, SEVEN FUCKING FEET TALL he fucking raped me."

"You slut. You're such a drama queen. You think just because you can show me cuts and bruises I should feel sorry for you. I fucking tended your wounds, I made them stop bleeding so you wouldn't fucking bleed out and you don't give a shit. You just fucked some football player because I wouldn't take you home." My entire body tensed, and my stomach flipped over. I was afraid he would hit me, that he was high, or worse, that he would dump me, that he wouldn't be me friend…he was the only one that mattered. Sure I had become great friends with Collins, but only because Roger loved him. I still had no other friends, and if he dumped me, nobody else would be nice to me.

"Don't you dare call me a slut! You of all people should understand! You're my best friend! My boyfriend! You are supposed to love me!"

"I'm gone, Mo. Don't you dare even try to talk to me again! Do you understand?"

"Fine. I don't need you anyway. You're worthless. You're band doesn't even need you. Only reason they don't kick you out is your fucking pretty face! Get the fuck out of my room, pretty boy!" I was hurt.

Nobody had ever broken my heart like that before. He was the only guy that I had ever truly wanted to be with—the only person I had ever loved and cherished. This was senior year in high school. He ran away before school ended, and I mourned my loss. I missed him. Now I had nobody, and I turned back to shooting up and drinking all of my father's love, otherwise known as money. And I continued to slice myself open, especially thinking about him. I never got the chance to tell him. I feared that I would never see him again…I was a cheap, worthless whore, but at the same time a rich bitch. And all the fucking I did brought in a pretty steady flow, though it was all managed very discreetly, of course. I never got arrested for it, even though the principal knew about it. He was a pretty lousy fuck, but it ensured my secrecy.

Collins, who was also mourning Roger's disappearance, turned to me, and basically worried about me instead of thinking about Roger. He didn't know what to do about me, but he was scared. He saw through my carefree prostitution, he noticed the bags beneath my eyes, the blood stains on my clothes, my weight loss. At lunch he would lecture me about how I needed to eat, and I would blow him off. He came over to my house every day to try to make me stop abusing myself, and it always ended in screaming. He would toss my razors and my drugs and booze. He would try to force feed me, but I always puked it back up anyway. He was desperate. He tried to make me go to a hospital, but I ran away. I was eighteen. I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. After graduation, I ran away to New York. I needed to get away, and I thought that I might have a chance at getting an acting job. I kept in touch with Collins, though I saw him very rarely because I never went home. He started teaching at various universities, which was exciting…


	2. Chapter 2

One random Christmas Eve, to my complete and utter surprise, I was walking to the Life Café, one of my new found favorite hangouts in the city I had been living in for four years now, I walked straight into Tom Collins. Being that he was so much taller than me, I didn't recognize him, and I started mumbling some sort of excuse.

"Maureen?"

"COLLINS! Oh my God! What are doing here? God I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too! But…oh," his face went dark for a moment, "oh this is bad." I pouted, confused.

"What's bad?"

"Well, you see…I was meeting…"

"Hey Collins! What's up?" Oh no. Not him. No, it couldn't possibly be him. I turned around very slowly, terrified, and leaped out of my skin when I saw that it was, in fact, Roger,

"Maureen? What the fuck?"

"Nice to see you, too."

"But…Collins said…but…"

"I live here now Roger. It was a complete coincidence running into Collins. Chill out."

"You bitch." My breath caught in my throat as old wounds started to bleed again.

"Roger, be nice to the girl." I started to back away from the two, wondering how I could escape, but I didn't want to leave Collins without knowing where he was staying, "Maureen, you will join us, of course," I swallowed hard, not knowing whether I wanted to stay or go, but decided there wasn't much harm in staying. There wasn't much else Roger could say or do that would hurt me. Or so I thought.

"Of course. That would be great." I flashed a big, enthusiastic smile at Collins, who hugged me fiercely. He knew I was hurt and scared. Roger deflated considerably, and held the door open for the two of us. He walked in behind me. We sat down at a table near the window, though I was unsure why, I usually tended towards the corner, and knew well that Roger did as well. But I let it drop.

"So Roger, how have you been? I haven't seen you in ages," I tried to keep it friendly, and he glared at me with the fires of hell in his livid green eyes. I cowered, wanting to crawl under a rock and die.

"Go to Hell." I couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and I lost it then and there. I started sobbing uncontrollably, and Roger just stared at me as if I were an alien. Collins hit him upside the head, and Roger was about to protest, but his eyes went dull, his defenses disintegrated.

"I'm sorry Mo. I just…you cheated on me!"

"Do you think I would've fucking cut myself if I had _chosen_ to fuck someone else? And where do you get off accusing me of being unfaithful! I never cheated on you. I never even flirted with anyone else. You were the only person who meant anything to me!"

"I couldn't take your drama anymore! You stopped caring about me! Everything was always about you! You didn't even care about your fucking brother anymore!" That stung. It was true. Ben had long since forgotten about me, and after Roger left, he wouldn't even look at me anymore. When I moved out, he didn't even say goodbye. Not that my parents did either. They were glad to see me go.

"After you left…my world fell apart…" I said softly, my eyes trying to burn a hole through the table, tears streaming down my face, "I was nothing more than a druggie, alcoholic, anorexic, self-mutilating whore. I felt like nobody cared about me anymore…even though Collins tried…I wouldn't let him in. I didn't let anybody in. I was worthless." Roger's eyes were cold and hard again.

"It's all about you again, isn't it? Well screw you. I'm happy now, and I have a girlfriend. So leave me the fuck alone. I'm not taking you back, no matter what."

"You really don't care about me? You were my first friend, best friend, only friend, boyfriend. If I don't matter to you at all, and we can't even be civil, you must not have been very fucking honest with me. Roger, I have known you forever! I helped you make it through your father's abuse! I cared about you! And you cannot tell me that you never felt anything towards me. You didn't let me die! YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME DIE YOU FUCKING BASTARD! If you weren't going to love me, I didn't need to live. Why must you torture me? It isn't funny. It isn't fair. How can I atone?"

"Are you okay?" He looked slightly concerned because I was a screaming, sobbing mess, though I could tell he was partially mocking me for being so dramatic, even though every word that I said was true.

"You have the nerve to ask me that? I want to be your friend again. Nothing more. What do I have to do? Please, I'll do anything! I need you back. I have no one…I have nowhere to go, nothing."

"Well, this won't forgive the harsh feelings, or the hurt, but I will try to be your friend. I suppose a relationship like ours can't end like that."

"Of course not. We were always there for each other, and then you ran away. You always ran away…from problems, I mean."

"Okay. You can come over to the loft, and meet my roommate and my girlfriend, as long as you are nice. If they like you, I have no choice but to forgive you."

"If not?"

"Let's decide if that happens."

"Roger, you said that you weren't ever going to leave me, that I was stupid to think that you would leave me, but you did Roger! You abandoned me! You didn't even tell me where you were going, if you were okay! I wanted to die Roger, because I had nothing left to live for!"

"Maureen, I wasn't running away from you. I was running away from my parents. Before I found you, my parents had a huge fight because my father finally caught my mother fucking some slimy guy in their bed. He left. I was looking for comfort, and you were bleeding, and I thought…you were gone, and I didn't know what to do. You scared me. I had to leave before you left me…I figured you were a time bomb, and inevitably you would succeed at killing yourself, or else you would fuck some loser like my mother did."

"But Roger…you didn't…honey, I…didn't know. We should've talked about it. You hurt me more deeply than anyone could ever hurt me."

"I was too young and stupid and scared to think rationally. But I did make sure that Collins made sure that you didn't kill yourself. Of course I didn't tell him where I was going, either, but I had to get out of there, though. I'm sorry…" Collins made his presence known again but interjecting,

"Oh to be young and in love…" Roger and I looked at each other, still capable of communicating wordlessly after all those years, and assaulted him…or, a-salt-ed him, shaking salt all over him. I proclaimed,

"A scholarly man deserves a scholarly joke." I was just glad that the mood had lightened/

"Hey! You guys!" Roger chuckled. It made me sad. I had missed him, and the only reason I had lost him was because I hated myself. Now he had someone else. She was probably smarter than I was, prettier. I hoped I could be her friend. I needed friends.

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I went over to the loft the following morning with Joanne, who still didn't understand why we had to make a visit to see the boho boys and "have a talk". But I didn't want her to know any more than Mark did, so I told her nothing about Roger and I.

"MARK! ROGER! We're here! Open up!" I screamed as I pounded on the door to the loft. After about two minutes or so, Roger opened the door. Tragedy, we had disturbed him and Mimi in their little make out session. Oh how I missed those. Roger was a fucking good kisser. We walked into the loft, and I didn't see Mark.

"Where's Marky?" I heard some rambling and footsteps as he made his appearance with his camera. It was only fitting, given that everyone seemed to be arriving two by two. Of course, just as I was thinking that, Collins and Angel appeared through the still-open loft door.

"Yay! Everybody's here!" Angel was always so positive. You had to love it. She enjoyed "family gatherings", even when they were somewhat uncomfortable, "So, let's get started!" I was suddenly very nervous…

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After we had been sitting in the Life for close to three hours, Collins and Roger took me back to what would become known as _the loft_ for the first time, and I was really nervous. I asked what their roommate was like.

"Well, his name is Mark, and he's really geeky and skinny and pale, with crazy blond hair, and these ridiculous big thick glasses and blue eyes. But you don't see his eyes much because they're always behind that crazy video camera of his. If we had known him in high school, we probably would've laughed at him."

"Oh. He sounds sweet."

"Yeah. Too much for his own good. He needs some action. And self-confidence." _Sounds like me at age nine. Before sex, drugs, etc. Roger's really a softy. Wow I've missed him._

"Aww. That's cute." Collins was making sure we still knew he was there. I pouted and puzzled,

"What's cute?"

"You're being nice to one another." We unlinked our arms and leapt back in mock disgust. _I hope Roger doesn't do that 'I only talk to Mo in private' thing again…_

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I pulled Roger and Collins aside, and we stepped into Roger's bedroom.

"Maureen, what's going on?" Roger looked completely confused.

"Mark and Joanne are getting really curious about when I was in high school, and I noticed Mimi was too…I thought it would be best if we let them know…I don't expect anything to change between us, I just…didn't want to seem overly biased one way or the other, you know what I mean?" Roger sighed.

"I have been dreading this day ever since I first introduced you to Mark and April…"

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"Mark? April? There's someone I want you to meet. She was my best friend in high school." _Suddenly I wasn't his girlfriend? Oh yeah. He has someone new. April._ As soon as I laid eyes upon her, I knew that she was bad news. Sure I liked her, but she was younger than we were, probably only about eighteen, and she had track marks all the way up her arms, and I thought that I saw some scars on her thighs, but I immediately stopped looking, still wanting to make a good impression. Honestly, I didn't like her because she was a mirror image of myself at the same age. That year…

"Hi Maureen!" April extended her hand to shake mine, and it took me a moment to understand the gesture, "pleasure to meet you! I was always so curious about Roger's past…" _Great. I'm going to exist solely through my relationship to Roger. Which he doesn't want me to talk about, judging by the look on his face._ Then I saw Mark, standing shyly in the corner, behind his archaic camera.

"Hey Mark!" I exclaimed enthusiastically, extending a hand. He blushed at the attention. _Awww, he's adorable. I want one!_ He shook my hand nervously.

"I…uh…you're…uh…wow. What I mean is--" April interrupted Mark, who was having a hard time figuring out the way that his mouth worked, and getting redder by the moment. _Aww. He's just the cutest. He thinks I'm pretty…_

"Mark is very happy to meet you, and he thinks that you look stunning." He blushed even more, and was by now the shade of a beet.

"Well, Maureen thinks that Mark is also very lovely, and has beautiful eyes. She is wondering if Mark would like to go out with her sometime." By now I was sure that he was as blushed as he could get, or else I feared his head might explode. Roger shot me a warning look, but I informed him, using my brilliant acting skills, that I wasn't teasing. I really liked him. April went over to Mark and talked to him for a minute. She said to me,

"Mark and April agree that a double date would be fun." By this point, Collins was all but rolling on the floor laughing. I shot him a look, and he tried harder to contain his laughter, but failed just the same. I rolled my eyes. Then Roger glared at me.

"Roger's being a party-pooper!" I announced, sticking my tongue out at him, and April went to sweet talk him. He finally grumbled,

"Roger is ecstatic. He can barely contain his joy." I glared at him, but he looked at me teasingly. We all moved towards the couch, but when Roger passed me, he whispered viciously, "Break his heart and I swear, Maureen Johnson, on the love that I still have for you, that I will slaughter you." I sighed submissively, and rolled my eyes, then hissed back,

"Roger, _you_ broke _my_ heart, remember?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." He grinned, somewhat sheepishly, and I slapped his arm lightly. April came up to me and put her arm around my shoulders,

"Rog, I like her. She's feisty. And Mark, I think she's a keeper." I let out a sigh of relief. _Yes! I'm in! Now, I just have to not break poor Marky's heart. Like _I _could do _that!_ How evil does he think I am?_

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"MAUREEN! You're dumping him for another WOMAN! He loves you! You're nothing but a cheap fucking tease. Bitch. I told you not to hurt him. He loves you more than anything else in the world and you cheated? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Roger you're just always waiting for me to fuck up. You think it fun when Maureen fucks up her life and everyone else's. You pretend to be mad but you're a fucking hypocrite! You fucked up my life! I loved YOU more than life itself. You never care until it affects YOU. If you're the one leaving, you have no problem. You didn't even tell me that you were leaving. BASTARD you have no right!" I left the loft, sobbing. If he hadn't gotten it into my head that I was going to fuck up this relationship, I probably wouldn't have. He dragged all of my expectations of myself down. He made me feel like a dirty whore, a cheap whore—what I had become after he broke my heart, after he killed me.

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"Roger you have got to stop shooting up! It's so bad for you—look, you look like shit! STOP IT! I was messed up in this fucking shit! Don't you remember, you idiot! STOP! This is fucked up. You always told me not to do this, that it would kill me. You don't even want to die, do you? ROGER, come on stop!" I was wrestling with him, trying to get his needle and shit. I couldn't believe that Roger would subject himself to this again. He knew how awful the stuff was—he had made me stop, of course I started up after he left, but that was because I actually had a death wish! He was just shooting up because of this stupid April girl! I loved April like a sister, but she was screwed up, she was exactly what I had been like at age eighteen. So I could see why he was with her, even if he wouldn't admit it. But that scared me too…she would try to kill herself, she would use drugs, she would fuck random strangers. And she was more stubborn than I was. I knew well that we should watch her closely, but Roger wouldn't listen. What if she really did kill herself? What if Roger couldn't save her like he had me? She didn't have someone like Collins physically forcing her to do or not do things. I tried my best to be that for her, but I had jobs, a boyfriend. She was one of my best friends, but at times I felt neglectful…

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"APRIL! Where…oh…ROGER! ROGER! Oh my God, April baby, April…" I fell to the floor beside the bloody tub. So much blood…can't touch…AIDS…why hadn't I paid more attention to her? Every alarm was going off, I knew that she was close to the edge…why didn't I do something? This was all my fault…I pocketed the razor. The one vice I hadn't quite given up…

"Oh my God…APRIL COME BACK! Maureen…help…Mo? Don't leave me…she left me! Why did she leave? WHY?" his sobbing shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces, which all burst into flame. I held him close, held him, my baby…like old times…but his was tragedy. The real love of his life…_he wanted to know why he had bothered to save me but let her die, I was convinced…but then, why did he save me? Did he really care…about me?_

"Shh Roger, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here…you know I'm here. I'm right here."

"I fucked up Mo. I screwed up big time…she's dead, she's dead and I have AIDS. She's dead and I'm dying Mo, I'm dying!" He looked desperately into my eyes, his own eyes crazed, pained. The worst I had ever seen them, and I'd been with him through a lot…_the closest I've ever seen them to right now was that night when I…when we broke up._


	3. Chapter 3

"Roger…we don't have to do this if you don't want to…but please don't make me feel like shit about the things that I've done…"

"I'm sorry, Mo, but you knew the past would come up sooner or later, but you weren't the jackass who bolted at the first sign of pain! I'm the one to blame. We should still be together, but now look where we are! We've finally found some peace. What if this fucks up all we've worked towards?" There was a knock on the door—it was Mark.

"Everyone still alive in there?"

"YEAH!" Roger and I screamed in unison, then I started giggling wildly.

"Hey Rog, remember that time in the--"

"JANITOR'S CLOSET! Oh God I forgot! That was a great fuck, Mo!" Collins cleared his throat at the mention of vaginal sex, and announced we should "get the show on the road".

"Ready, Rog?"

"Just one more thing I've been wondering…" He moved closer to me.

"Wha—oh—mmm" He had interrupted my inquiry by pulling me close and kissing me passionately, his hands moving to my breasts, but it felt surprisingly right and normal. _God how I've missed him. _After a long moment, he broke away, both of us trying to catch our breaths after the fiery kiss.

"Question answered."

"Oh yeah? What was that?" I asked, accidentally in a sensual and seductive tone, his face the exact representation of my own surprise. We looked into each other eyes for a moment, regretfully, but then he smiled at me, brushing a curl from my face and cupping the side of my face in his hand.

"We've still got it, babe. I always wanted to kiss you again…but we may never get another chance." At the realization that we could really never be together, have the relationship that I longed for, I pouted unconsciously, and he laughed, hugging me tightly, "Mo, I'm glad to have this back."

"What's 'this'?" He looked at me gently, searching for the right words to describe his thoughts, meanwhile fixing my messed up lipstick, or at least making it look less obvious that we had just made out, considering that our girlfriends were waiting for us to make an appearance.

"Our friendship. Let's stay close. And let's go out there and show them our crap, so we can all move on." On that note, we bounded out of the room, his arm around my shoulders, Collins stumbling behind, looking somehow violated by our kiss.

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"FINALLY you three! We thought Rog and Mo were either killing each other or fucking. And Collins had passed out from despair." Mimi was so spunky and adorable; Roger was really lucky to have her.

"Well, maybe we were…" I said slyly, looking at Roger, who just chuckled and rubbed my arm.

"You wish, Maureen." We looked at each other, and he and I knew that we both wished for another chance, even though on the outside it sounded like a joke. The rest of the group chuckled briefly, before getting suspicious about our creepy, nonverbal eyeball communication.

"You guys? What's going on?" It was Mark who spoke it, but the question was in everyone's eyes. I smiled innocently and crawled into Joanne's lap, Roger sitting between Joanne and Mimi on the couch. I squeezed his hand, as we began.

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"Roger?" Mimi was cleaning out my closet. Again. I'd fallen asleep.

"Hmm?"

"What's this?" I groaned in response, realizing this meant I would have to sit up and look. She was holding an ancient shoebox filled with dusty pictures of me when I was in high school…pictures of me singing to my girl, kissing her, her holding my guitar…

"High school."

"Who's this chick? She looks like…" Don't say her name, Meems, don't.

"My girlfriend." I said firmly, so that she would know to back off. It worked, but now I wanted to see them again. I found a picture of her singing while I played my guitar…

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"Rog-ey, show me how to play guitar?" She was so damn cute when she pouted.

"Maureen…you know I don't trust anyone with her!"

"Her? It's a her? Do you love her more than you love me?" She pouted more, her perfected puppy dog look. I pulled her close and looked into her eyes, immediately on the guilt trip to end all guilt trips. She was beautiful. I kissed her firmly, my hands wandering down to her incredible ass…

"Roger!"

"What?"

"That's embarrassing!"

"What? You're hot. It's not like there's a part of you that I haven't touched!" She sighed, realizing that I was right. Her eyes went cold and distant…I knew she was thinking about that first night…

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"Benji? What's wrong?" The little boy sounded terrified. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I was terrified. Had something happened to Mo? I ran down the sidewalk to the house, and saw flames. _Fuck. What to do…hose…get the hose…no first Benji…get Benji…go inside. Where is she? Where's Maureen? Oh God she better be okay…_I got into the house finally, to discover it was only a minor fire…started in the fireplace…whatever she was burning wasn't all the way in, though, a piece of something had acted as a fuse.

"Ben? Where are you?" The next thing I knew, the little six year old had jumped into my arms, scared to death, "where's your sister?"

"I don't care. Mo doesn't love Benji." He resumed sucking on his thumb, but he was crying. _Poor little guy—what does he mean she doesn't love him? Wonder what's gotten into her…_

"Benj, is she upstairs?" He nodded.

"Door locked...music's too loud." I messed with his hair as I put him down, and told him to go play next door, then managed to get the fire out pretty quickly. I was used to doing it because my parents frequently fell asleep with cigarettes or burned random things when they were drunk to create heat.

"MAUREEN! OPEN THE DOOR!" I stood there, pounding on the door, for about five minutes before she came shuffling over to the door, clad only in a white towel, which was slightly too small to cover her. She had a very nice figure, and usually had beautifully perfect pale skin that went wonderfully with those huge hazel eyes and luxurious dark curls, but today she looked a mess. Her hair was still wet, her skin lacking in its usual luster, her eyed bloodshot, though I didn't see and fresh track marks. Her left ankle was bleeding profusely. I was very concerned about her (though I didn't let her see it just yet); she was always so troubled, and lately had been more out of it than usual.

"Shit Maureen, what's going on around here?" I didn't mean to sound as abrasive and judgmental as I did, and wished I could retract my tone, though she seemed to out of it to notice. When I informed her about the small matter of her almost burning the house down, and she freaked. She tended to get lost in the darkness of her own pain and ignore the rest of the world. That had always worried me. I tried to get her to look into my eyes. We had a connection…it was all about the eyes. I started to yell at her about her lack of responsibility out of concern for her six year old brother, mostly because she had never neglected him before like that. She had been slumming with this creepy slimy man who was twelve years older than we were, but wouldn't stop with him. She flirted wildly with anything that had balls and didn't usually care about the outcome, though surprisingly she was still a virgin…she was sobbing now, and everything fell into place. I looked her over gently, only now noticing the bruises on her body, gently tilting her head upwards so that I could see into her eyes, and felt completely helpless, drowning in my concern for her, drowning in her eyes…she was pissed at me, though I couldn't focus on what she was screaming. It was at this precise moment that I realized that I loved her, and I always had, but it didn't matter right then…I was too overwhelmed by my revelation…

"He raped you." I stated it. I was positive that was exactly what had happened, even though I hadn't really put it into words in my head. I could tell from her reaction that I was dead on, and she couldn't believe how perceptive I was, or perhaps was kicking herself for being so obvious, but also that the full gravity of the situation was beginning to sink in. Her gorgeous, naked body was curled up on the floor on a pile of clothes that were somewhere between clean and dirty, writhing in pain, wracked in sobs, and after the initial awkwardness of her bare, bruised flesh sunk in (I had never seen her naked before), I held her in my arms, trying to console her…but there was something incredibly attractive about this new, soft, broken girl that I had never seen before…I didn't want to hurt her or take advantage of her, but I realize how much I truly loved her. I knew that I had hurt her in the past with cruel words because I tormented her at school, but she had never shown me that she was bothered by it, she was understanding. She had been hurt a lot in her lifetime, but even then it was rarely that I had seen her cry, even as a young child when my father had gotten out of control at one of my birthday parties and abused her. _God I hope _he_ didn't rape her, too._ She'd forgiven _me_ immediately, but wouldn't come over to my house after that day, and had gotten very quite for a couple of months afterwards. I just wanted her to know that I was there for her and loved her. As a teenage boy, there was no other way that I could think of to show her than to hold her and love her gently…as gently as I could. I absently slid my hands over her breasts, fondling the perfect, creamy mounds, feeling her nipples harden. She moaned, unaware of the soft, almost silent release, and I got scared, feeling like I was taking advantage of her…

She put her mouth over mine, with intense need, which scared me but I also found to be extremely sexy. I had never felt that I really mattered to anyone for who I was. It may sound stupid, but it _is_ really hard to be popular in high school. I'd made out with girls before, even had sex with them, but honestly I had only felt like an object that they wanted to obtain—not to sound like a girl or anything, but it had never _meant_ anything. I never thought that mattered, until I felt myself rise up between her legs—her gorgeous, perfect, yet bruised thighs…I didn't want to hurt her. Her pelvis tilted into me, and my excitement continued to rise, and she pulled my pants of quickly, desire consuming her entire existence. _Oh, what the fuck. You both want this! You love her. Go for it!_ Following suit, I ripped my t-shirt off as quickly as I could, and we moved together as one…

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With my Maureen, at the hospital, the very same day that she said she would be my girl, after the most amazing sex that I had ever had. She's terrified, gripping my hand as though it will insure that she is okay and without child. _Poor baby girl…I should've been nicer to her. Maybe she never would've gotten raped…maybe we would've been together this whole time._ I can't believe I was such a jerk. But I love her, and it's all going to be okay now. The nurse came back, telling us that there was a little vaginal tearing, as is expected in the case of rape, but she wasn't pregnant, and she didn't have any nasty diseases either.

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Our one-year anniversary. I had remembered it, but she hadn't. I wasn't surprised—she never remembered her own birthday. Usually I didn't remember things like that, but I had secretly always longed for someone that I could be sentimental with. I was writing a son g for her, and my band wasn't satisfied with the fact that I had written it for a girl, and because of that it was relatively mushy. But I had always been the lone romantic in the group, despite my seemingly crude exterior, though that image of me had sort of shifted as I attempted to accommodate to Maureen. She was loud and proud publicly, but soft, broken, hurting and afraid on the inside. Adorable, pessimistic, masochistic, morbid at times…but she was sweet, kind, caring…and she loved me. For some reason, she was always afraid that I would ditch her for someone who was cooler, which I couldn't help but blame myself for. If I hadn't been such a jerk and made fun of her so much, she probably would've had a bit more self-esteem. I had let her down.

"So are we gonna go through this song again or what? I mean, I'm cool if you don't want to, Rog, since you know how much I _adore_ this song, but…if we're gonna perform it tonight, we need to do some work."

"Let's do this!" I said, snapping out of my daze.

Outspoken 

_Easily broken_

_You never thought_

_We'd make it_

_I couldn't take it_

_But look at us now_

_We've jumped_

_Over the moon_

_We're among the_

_The stars now…_

_Beautiful baby_

_Shattered mirror reflects_

_Pains of the past_

_Pick up the pieces_

_Just look around_

_Look at us now_

_We're okay_

_Don't worry about_

_Any day but today_

_We're over the moon_

_Lifted out of our tombs_

_Life has begun_

_You're mine,_

_Forever and all time_

_Don't need anyone_

_But you…_

_Your eyes so warm,_

_So full of passion_

_And I drown in your eyes,_

_The ones that_

_Burn so deep into me_

_Know all_

_Before I tell_

_And I know_

_We were meant to be_

_You're my heartbeat_

_My lifeblood_

_My heartbeat_

_So let's go over the moon_

_We'll fly high_

_Higher than before _

_Live a life gleaming_

_Brilliant golden love_

_Lift us and_

_Take us away_

_We are as one_

_My love_

_And our star's due_

_For shooting_

_Let's leap_

_Let's fly_

_Let's soar_

_Over the moon_

Over the moon… 

"Okay guys. I think we've got it down now. We've got four hours 'til the show, so go do…whatever it is that you do. See you at 7. Peace!" I quickly packed up my guitar and ran over to Mo's.

"Maureen! You there?" I was knocking on her door frantically, and when she didn't answer, I went back outside and climbed up through her window. It was always unlocked, because I used it so often. I found her huddled in her bathroom, wearing only a thong and bra, crying, "Sweetie, what's wrong?" I took her in my arms, concerned, noting several cuts on her wrist, but not addressing it. I rocked her in my arms, holding her until she fell asleep, knowing that she was too out of it tell me anything, and I didn't want to push her, didn't want to break her._ Oh Maureen…break my heart…do what you will…just don't leave me alone!_ I lifted her, gently, and put her on her bed. I looked at her bleeding wrists, cleaned them up, and assessed the damage. The cuts weren't that deep. _At least she wasn't trying to kill herself. _ Then I looked at her chest, the rest of her body, to see if she had done anything else, finding several cuts between her legs. _Oh my God, what is she doing to herself? I want to bring her back to me…I wonder what happened?_ I left a note beside her bed saying that she should come to the show, and I had a surprise for her afterwards, also adding that I loved her. I got out of her room quickly and ran over to Collins' place, not knowing whom else to talk to.

"Yo! Davis! What's up?" he inquired cheerfully, embracing me in the way that he always did, which always made me a tad uncomfortable. He stepped back, assessing my expression, and finally asked, "It's the girl, isn't it? What happened?" I nodded, eyes glazed over with tears that I wouldn't show to anyone in the world but Collins. He led me into the house, and sat with me on the couch, and let me find the words to express the profound pain that I felt. I told her what had happened, how I had just found her there, bleeding, so far gone…

"I don't know what to tell you. I think Mo's the best thing that's ever happened to you, but she's a really messed up girl. She needs a lot, but you gotta remember, so do you. You two complement each other well, but between you, you've got enough baggage to make the world cave in on itself. I'm not saying you should leave her—don't do _that_, but you both got some stuff to work out. Watch her carefully, Davis, don't let her slip away. Now, I have to go to a meeting. Go get that girl, and don't let her go. She needs you to be there." I nodded, shocked that he had been so perceptive without me saying all that much. He was always far wiser than his years.

I went back to Maureen's, back through the window, to find her still asleep. I threw out the note that I had left, and lay down in the bed, across from her, watching her sleep. _She's so beautiful, such an angel when she sleeps…_I stroked her hair gently, and kissed her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled seeing me there.

"Hey Rog. What're you doing here?" I tenderly took her wrist in my hands and kissed the cuts that she had put there. She trembled, moving away from me, trying to free her wrist, but I wouldn't let her get away. I pulled her in closer to me and she struggled to get away, but finally, overwhelmed, gave in to my embrace. Her whole body shook, she soaked my shirt, but I didn't care. I wasn't letting her go. We stayed like that for a long time, until she had finally calmed and slid out of my embrace, but as she moved away I took her hand in mine, and we lay there, just looking at each other. Finally I broke the silence.

"Why'd you do it?" I was careful with my tone this time, keeping it soft, cautious. Her voice came out in a jagged, quiet whisper, afraid and ashamed—somehow reminding me of a mouse.

"I…don't…I just…never mind," she was clearly in a lot of pain, emotionally, and was having a hard time saying that which her eyes told me she wanted so badly to let out. For the first time, I had absolutely no idea what was wrong, and it scared me. I couldn't do anything but sit there and try to soothe her, and I felt that she was beginning to break away from me. _Why can't she tell me what's wrong? Why won't she talk to me?_

Once she had pulled herself together I told her the things that the note I had previously written and discarded, and she said she always loved my shows and was sure that it would make her feel better to get out. She told me that she needed to get dressed so I should go, and I told her that I would go if she could guarantee that she wouldn't hurt herself. She sighed and tossed the blade that she had used to me, and I put it in my pocket, kissing her intensely, and told her that I would be back in twenty minutes to pick her up. She smiled at me with sad eyes, trying to convince me that she would be okay and told me that she couldn't wait, which I believed. I was excited for her to hear my song…she would love it. I hoped it would cheer her up and help get her out of this funk…

"Maureen? You ready to go?" I had returned promptly when I said I would, knowing full well that she would need at least five minutes more than I had given her, simply because she was never one to be on time for anything. I had climbed up through her window, and was sitting on her bed as she fussed with her makeup in the bathroom. When she emerged, she looked stunning. She was wearing a short, tight leather skirt (though not short enough to reveal her cuts, obviously) with fishnets and knee height leather boots and a tight red v-necked tank top. She had her thick leather cuff watch on one wrist, and on the other a leather cuff with a lock on it.

"Wow, Mo…you look…"

"Ridiculous? I can change if you…"

"No! You look fantastic. I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life. I promise."

"You don't think it's a bit much?" She looked a little embarrassed at the revealing nature of her outfit, not because she usually wore modest clothes, but this was way more revealing than usual.

"Definitely not. You have a gorgeous body, and shouldn't be afraid to show it off." She blushed a little, lowering her head so that her eyes didn't meet mine, so I lifted her chin and reassured her, "You look great. Now let's go so I can show you off!" She laughed, which made me relax a little, because it was a sound that I hadn't heard in a while, since she was drowning in her pain, but I couldn't figure out what had been bothering her.

I sang the song that I had written for her with all the emotion that my being could muster, and I saw her start to cry in the corner of the café where she sat. I knew that the song had touched her, and that made me happy. At least she knew how much I loved her and wanted to be there for her. Afterwards, when I got off stage, I didn't see her in the corner where I knew she had been sitting, and I freaked out a little bit.

"Hey guys? Have any of you seen Mo?" I was asking everyone where she was, and nobody seemed to know. I headed towards the restrooms, and sighed. I really didn't want to go into the ladies room to look for her, but I was almost positive that she was in there. I waited for ten minutes or so, just to make sure that she didn't validly have to pee or something, because I really didn't feel like embarrassing her and myself like that. I braced myself and pushed the door open. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be anyone in there, which I made sure of by counting the people going in and coming out.

"Maureen? Are you in here?" I listened carefully, and heard someone throwing up. I resorted to looking at the bottoms of stalls, and spotted her boots. The door was, obviously, locked, so I went into the adjoining stall, and peered over the top, standing on the toilet, "Sweetie, are you okay?" She glared at me, since obviously she wasn't okay, she was puking her guts out. I crawled under the stall wall, which was difficult, but I somehow managed it. Her sickness persisted, and I wondered suddenly if it she had forced herself to throw up, or if something was really wrong with her, but nonetheless I soothed her, held her hair back, and when she was finished, I pulled her onto my lap, "Honey, do you want to go home now?"

"No, Rog, really, I'm fine. That song was really amazing. I appreciate it so much…it just…it was so beautiful."

"I'm glad you liked it. It took me a long time to get it to where I liked the way it sounded, and I didn't want it to be anything less than perfect for you. I just wanted you to realize how much you mean to me, and I want you to be happy, baby. Are you sure you're okay? You've been a little distracted for the past couple of days…"

"I think I'm just PMS-ing or something. I'll be okay."

"That doesn't explain the puking…"

"Oh, honey, you worry too much about me! I promise I am okay. Now let's go celebrate this anniversary that I forgot about."

"Okay babe. You have got to stop scaring me shitless though."

"Aww I'm sorry sweetie! I just haven't been myself lately."

"Okay, I'll make a compromise here. I'm gonna take you back to your house, but I've got something to give you."

"Oooh! Yay! That sounds good." I laughed at her reaction, and we got up and went back to her house. As soon as we got to her house, she brushed her teeth, and I watched her through the partly open door. She didn't know I was watching, however, and I noticed the hateful way that she glared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't stand to look at it. She cursed herself quietly, almost silently, as she spat toothpaste foam into the sink. She emerged from the bathroom several minutes later, after staring at herself in the mirror. I didn't know what to make of the situation, but I didn't bother her.

"Everything okay, Mo?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" She seemed utterly puzzled that I would be at all concerned about her for any reason at all.

"Oh, no reason. You just took a while, that's all."

"You're sweet. I promise I'm okay. Really!" I stared at her skeptically, and she came over, straddling my lap, and kissed me.

"So…you have something for me?" She asked, somewhat seductively, tracing her finger over my chest.

"Oh yeah! So, as you know, we have been going out for a year, and you have been my best friend since…forever. So I got you something to show you how much I love you." I pulled out a cow-shaped ring box from my pocket (I can't explain it, but when I saw the cow, it seemed to go with her personality. And then it inspired my song, the jump over the moon alluding to the nursery rhyme. At the time, I thought it was brilliant.) She squealed, and opened it, then her breath caught as she stared.

"Oh my God, Roger…it's…oh my God." It wasn't much, I had thought, a simple silver band, with an intricate design around. Inside of the ring there was an engraving which read _"MJ I will love you always and forever RD". _

"It's not a contract, but I want to be with you forever. And I want you to know that even if something happens, I will still love you." I slid it onto her ring finger, and she examined it gently, her eyes tearing up slightly,

"Roger, it's perfect. I don't know what to say…I love you too." She started to cry and excused herself to the bathroom again. I got concerned when she hadn't come out ten minutes later, and gingerly opened the door, which didn't have a lock on it.

"No…Roger…go away…I don't want you to see this." I continued to push the door open, seeing blood again.

"Baby…why'd you do that?" I was puzzled, and knew immediately that there had to be something that she wasn't telling me.

"You deserve better than me. You shouldn't love me…I can't even love myself. I'm just a fucked up girl trying to find my own peace of mind." _Why does she feel so inconsequential and stupid all the time? What is she hiding?_ I didn't ask. I just held her.

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"Roger! He fucked me and you don't fucking care do you? DO YOU?" _Was that what she was hiding from me? Was she cheating on me?_

"Who fucked you? Did you fucking cheat on me? What the fuck?" It seemed so surreal. My mother had finally been caught cheating on my father, and Mo was cheating on me too? I came over to her house distraught, looking for a little comfort, only to find her passed out and bleeding on the floor in her bathroom. Our relationship had been really messed up for the past six months, ever since our one-year anniversary, six months ago. It was April now, but it was freezing outside, and raining. I had made sure that her cuts stopped bleeding, made sure she would be okay, and stayed there with her, concerned, wanting to know what was going on. She had been like this since that night—distant, hiding something. I never would've imagined that she was cheating on me, though, of all of the things that she could've possibly been hiding. I didn't know what to expect though, quite frankly, I had no idea. She wasn't on drugs again or drinking, because those would be too physically obvious to me, knowing as much as I did from experience with my parents, and having known her so intimately. _Maybe I'm hurting her. I don't know how, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if she killed herself. Even if it wasn't my fault. But eventually I knew that she would leave me. If I stay it will make things worse. I can't take her continuing to hurt herself. It's hurting me._ I already knew that I was leaving, I'd packed a duffle bag of clothes, and obviously my guitar, and I'd hidden them in the bushes beside my house. I was coming to say goodbye to her, though of course I wouldn't tell her where I was going, I wasn't even sure if I would tell her that I was going, but I just needed to see her again. I just couldn't live with my parents anymore. I didn't even know if I believed that she would cheat on me, but it was obvious that she had sex, and it obviously hadn't been with me. _She said it was rape. You should believe her._ I think I did believe her. It would be far less painful if we had a fight before I left, maybe that's why I did it.

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The previous day had been a blur. I had a fight with Maureen about leaving the party, because she said she had a headache, and that she wanted to leave. I didn't really want to stay at the party, but I had just about enough of Maureen's mood swings for the day. I was getting drunk. Maybe it wasn't so much that I didn't want to take her home as that I didn't want to have to go home, and I wasn't really in the mood to try to decode her, since I was failing miserably at finding out what was bothering her. It was too depressing. When I was finally ready to take her home, I couldn't find her anywhere, and naturally thought that she had just gotten fed up and left. I was going to go check on her, but as I walked past my house I heard screaming and things breaking. I had to know what was going on in there. So I walked into the middle of the battle zone, but not expecting what I saw—my mother, naked with another man, on the sofa. My father was screaming at them, breaking alcohol bottles and china against the wall, the couch, throwing things even at the two naked forms on the couch. _Ew._ I snuck into my room quietly. The next morning when I awoke, they were still screaming at each other, probably more drunk then the previous night. I couldn't stand to stay there. I packed my things quickly, and then climbed out of my own window. I sat there behind the bushes next to my house for what felt like hours. I formulated a plan—I would run away to NYC. I would tell Collins to watch Maureen, that I had to get away for a while, that I was going to travel. Collins wouldn't ask too many questions—he knew how fucked up my family was. He couldn't stop me from dropping out of school, either—I was failing all of my classes and would have had to make them up in summer school anyway. _Unlike Maureen. She's brilliant. I couldn't tell her where I was going—she might want to come. I can't be responsible for her wasting her potential. Collins would understand that too._

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After I went to see her, I went to Collins. I told him that I just had to get away, and I didn't know when I was coming back, but I needed him to watch Maureen. He stared at me blankly, not knowing what to make of the situation. He nodded, seeing that I was distraught, that I wasn't going to tell him anything else, and that my mind was made. _Maybe the problem with going out with Maureen is that we're both so stubborn. That's why we keep secrets so well._ Collins wished me luck, though he did look less than thrilled that I was leaving. _He probably thinks that I am a coward. I've gotta go._

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"Maureen? What the fuck?" Why was she here? Did she find me? Did Collins tell her I was here? What the fuck? No, he hadn't told her that I was here. He told me that he didn't know where she was living, but he had contact with her.

"Nice seeing you, too." Her tone was phony, probably masking hurt, but I couldn't stand the forced niceties. _Why isn't she pissed? She should hate me._ I saw that she was still wearing the ring…_ "I'll never take it off…"_ I shouldn't have been surprised. She was confused. Angry, but confused. I hadn't told her anything. And I still loved her, didn't I? Except now I have April…

"You bitch." I couldn't believe the words came out of my mouth. I wanted to apologize for not believing she was raped, I wanted to explain the whole thing. Calling her names was not going to help my case any. I wanted to tell her that I still cared about her, but instead I said the opposite. I was more uncomfortable seeing her there than I had ever been in my life. She continued her overly sweet attitude after Collins extended an offer for her to join us. I told her to go to Hell. She started crying—I hated it when I made her cry. I melted. I started to apologize, but then shot back something about how she cheated on me, and she looked wounded. I knew that it was a lie—she _had_ been raped. I called her a drama queen. Her eyes narrowed, and it looked like she was about to tell me something that I didn't know, something she had been waiting to spit out at me for a while, but she changed her mind and broke down, crying, as if she couldn't bring herself to say what she really wanted to, and just cried about how I abandoned her, I broke her heart…and I felt worthless. _There was something else she wasn't telling me when left, because it wasn't the cheating…_

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"Roger? Honey?" It was Mimi. I had my eyes closed, not wanted to start crying or something, just wanting her to think that I had fallen asleep as she continued to clean.

"Yeah. I'm here."

"What were you thinking about? You were always really bad at faking sleep."

"Oh, um…the past."

"Was it April again?" She sounded concerned. I lied,

"Yeah. I don't think I'll ever really get over her…"

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"Roger! STOP IT! What the fuck is wrong with you?" I couldn't help but shoot up. I didn't even really like, and I had sworn to myself (and probably Mo at some point or another) that I would never be like my parents; I had even made Mo stop. I knew it was bad for me. I didn't want to lose April like I had Maureen. I didn't see how else to hold on. April, in and of herself, was an addiction, and when she told me to do something, I did it. Even these fucking drugs. They made me feel closer to her. Maureen didn't want to lose me. _What right does she have? She wanted to lose herself. I should be allowed to do the same…_But that wasn't right—I hadn't let her do it. _Maybe I should have…no, Davis, you love her. Killing people is bad. Mo isn't bad…Mo is bad. Is Mo bad? No you don't love Mo, you fool…you love April. You love April? April is Mo. Mo is April…_damn drugs. I can't think straight…need more. I need another hit.

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"Oh my God! ROGER! ROGER!" The panic in her voice scared me—_did something happen to her? Is she hurt?_ "Oh April, baby, oh my God". _Oh shit…it's April. God Rog, stop thinking about Mau—_

"Oh my God…APRIL COME BACK! Maureen…help…Mo? Don't leave me…she left me! Why did she leave? WHY?" _How could I have been so stupid? And why can't I stop thinking about Maureen? She's with Mark…_


	4. Chapter 4

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When we had said our piece, the rest of the group (aside from Collins, of course) looked utterly stunned. We had skipped over some of the details, like _how_ I tried to kill myself—this more our relationship than anything else. I realized that I was hanging onto Roger's hand like a life preserver. I realized that he was in pain, and loosened my grip considerably, looking at him apologetically. He smiled, squeezing my hand reassuringly. It was only then that I realized I had somehow managed to end up in Roger's lap, and quickly jumped up, startled, and ran into the bathroom. I stood there, pacing, leering at myself in the mirror. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. You always have to fuck up your own life, don't you? Worthless, ugly, stupid whore! What's wrong with you? You can't love him! He's moved on—you've moved on. Crazy bitch._ I was fingering the shiny metal blade that had been in my pocket—the one that April had used. I had washed it off after I pocketed it that day. I had told myself that it was because I didn't want Roger to find it, but I knew in my mind that wasn't the reason. The next thing I knew I was staring down at my wrists in disbelief, watching the warm trickles steadily proceeding from the long slits.

"MAUREEN! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" _Roger? He sounds scared. Oh shit. I didn't want to scare him…I can't do this to him. No, wait, he doesn't love me…or does he?_

"Roger?" I was surprised at how quiet and timid my voice sounded. I was crying, I realized as my tears mixed with blood. I opened the door just a crack, only wanting Roger to see me like this, because he knew about this awful habit. _Or did he think I had gotten over this? Regardless, I need him._ I saw that nobody else had moved, and they were chatting in a low whisper, I couldn't make out what they were saying, but figured they were talking about me. Mimi saw me open the door and let Roger in, and she looked confused. _God I hope she doesn't think that I'm fucking him…_

"Oh my God, Maureen." The fear in his eyes terrified me, and hurt me. His voice was quiet, cracking. He slid down to the floor, his face suddenly very pale, remembering April, I assumed. I turned away from him; I couldn't bear to look him in the eye, though I was already sobbing now, unable to remain standing, barely able to breathe. I felt him grab my hand, prying the blade out of my fingers, throwing it down on the floor.

"I'm…sorry Roger…I…I can't…I…oh I don't…know…what's…wrong…with me…" He pulled me over him, so I sat across his lap, gripping me as tightly as he could so that I couldn't get away. He grabbed a towel, pressing it tightly into both of my wrists to try to get the bleeding to subside.

"Mo…there's something I've been meaning to ask you…" his voice was gentle, and very cautious, not wanting to pry, or to push me. I wiped my eyes with the heels of my hands, smudging mascara all over my face. He smiled lightly, "Hey. Let me do that." I laughed through my tears as he used his thumbs to wipe my eyes.

"Yeah? What…would that be?"

"That last night…when we…had that fight? You were keeping something from me. What was it?" I couldn't breathe—the world seemed to be closing in on me—I started shaking uncontrollably. _What the fuck? This has never happened before…_I couldn't move. "Maureen? Oh my God, Maureen, are you okay?" I couldn't respond, and the panic I felt found its way to his face. I tried to nod, but I knew I was obviously not. "Honey…breathe. Just breathe through it…this will pass." After several minutes, when I could breathe normally again, he looked into my eyes again. "You don't have to tell me if it's too painful. I don't have a right to ask things like that after what I did to you." _No—don't let him say that! He has to know! You have to tell him!_

"Rog?" My voice was hoarse, forced. "I should tell you…no, I have to tell you. I was scared…and I didn't want you to get mad or freaked out or…I don't know…but…I had…er…I got…you…I…" I took a deep breath, bracing myself. "I was pregnant." His body froze, and I started to move away from him, scared, but he stopped me with one of his arms, pulling me back. He looked at me questioningly.

"Pregnant?" His voice faltered, tears flowing freely from his eyes for the first time that I could remember. I put my hand in his hair, searching his eyes for the reason for his pain. _He thinks he should've stayed; we should've kept it…he wants to know more._

"It was a girl…I…her name is Elsie…born July fourteenth…she's so beautiful…or she was, anyway…I haven't seen her since then…I kept in contact with the people who adopted her…" Regret overcame me, tears of longing spilling over as I collapsed onto his chest. _Is this all we ever do? Fall apart? Keep secrets? Do things we regret? Keep repeating the cycle?_

"She's…eight…then?" I blinked, surprised at his reaction.

"Yeah. I guess so…"

"Can we…I mean…see her?" I sighed, thinking about the complicated situation of her guardians. They hadn't technically adopted her, but they were looking after her—my father's sister, the lesbian one that didn't fit into the family, who was only eight years older than me. She, having put up one of her own children for adoption, didn't want me to do that. She had said if I didn't ever want to see her again it was fine, as I had only met her once (even though she only lived about twenty minutes away), but my parents, who hated adoption, thought it the better alternative. My aunt now lived with my grandmother, a wise woman, though I never went to visit her anyway, only ten minutes from my parents' house.

"Yeah. If you want to…well, I mean, I didn't _exactly_ put her up for adoption…my grandmother…" I didn't really want to go back there, to face the beautiful child that I had left behind. But if he wanted to go, I would probably have to come along. _Why is my life so complicated?_

"Let's go."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"What about--?"

"Mimi and Joanne?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want them to come?"

"Well…no…I mean, unless you--"

"No." He smiled at me, feeling the old love that we had tried to fight for such a long time bubble over to the surface again. It felt nice. I could tell that we were both grateful for this little connection. But still I didn't know if I liked the way this was playing out, despite my secret desire to have Roger back. Even if we could never be together, at least she would be there, but would that be a good thing? _I want to bring her back…raise her…my baby. I've missed so much…_Roger began to wipe the blood from my arms, suggesting I wear long sleeves, forgetting that all of my clothes were at _my_ apartment. I washed my puffy, tearstained, and makeup smeared face, and tried to make myself presentable (which is harder than it sounds, especially in the absence of makeup, as my purse was in the common room). I looked at his jeans, the bloodstains that I had put there.

"I'm sorry about that, hon—Roger." He raised an eyebrow in amusement as I blushed. He kissed my forehead, and went to change his pants. I emerged from the bathroom slowly to the bewildered stares of the rest of the group. Collins came up to me, pulling me aside from the rest of the group, looking me over.

"What the hell just happened in there? What were you crying about? And what's with the blood?" I spotted a few spots of blood on my jeans, near my knees, where I had rested my wrists when slitting them. He grabbed my wrists roughly, examining them, his face fell when he saw that his suspicions were right. _Damn. I hate hurting people._ He whispered to me, "Why did you do it this time?"

"Because…I can't have him." I lowered my eyes, taking an interest in the messy floor, my fingernails, anything but his eyes. He leaned over, and whispered in my ear,

"Y'all belong together. I have never doubted that. It was foolish for him to leave you. It broke my heart when he stayed with April, even though I was happy that you were with Mark because I worried about him, I knew that you two were so different. That and I sensed it was rebounding. And Joanne—I love her. We all do. But you were just trying to get Roger's attention, weren't you? Trying to tell him that he couldn't have you anymore, that he waited too long?" _Oh…wow. That is what I was doing, isn't it? Damn it Collins, why are you so smart?_ I suddenly remembered that Collins knew about Elsie, since he had been the only one there through all of it—he had convinced me to stop my reckless behavior until she was born.

"Collins…I told him about--"

"Elsie. I figured. Are y'all going to visit?" At that precise moment, Roger emerged.

"Hey Mo! Ready to go?" He looked at Collins, knowing full well that Collins was in on our little secret.

"Hey, don't worry guys, I kept this secret just as long as Mo did." We looked uncomfortably at each other, and just then the other members of our "family" approached, wanting to know what was going on. _Great, what happens now?_ Roger and I looked at Collins, pleading.

"Roger and Maureen have some things to sort out back at home. To try to put the past behind them, and they need to be alone with each other for a little while." That sounded suspicious so I added,

"And Collins has to come along to. He has to check in on some stuff…" Roger cleared his throat.

"We won't be gone more than a couple of days." The three of us bounded out of the loft, without a single look back from the three of us. We hopped on a train to the nightmare we had tried so hard to escape, but with hope this time.

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"Aunt Suzy! Are you here?" Despite all of the time that I had been away, the key was still hidden in the same place—a loose brick behind a small shrubbery. I hadn't even considered it odd that we were showing up out of nowhere after eight years without so much as a phone call of a warning, at nine o'clock at night, nonetheless. A small girl with long, dark curls and big green eyes emerged from the stairway, slowly trudging towards us with a teddy in tow, rubbing her eyes, apparently very sleepy.

"Hey, Els…you probably don't--"

"Mommy?" _Oh my God, oh my God._ I gulped, trying to hold back tears, but failing.

"Yes, baby. It's me." Roger looked utterly puzzled. I hadn't told him that she had lived with me up until the point that I moved into the loft. I hadn't wanted to give her up, the only piece of Roger that I still had. She was about four when I had relinquished her to Suz. Elsie ran up to me, and then stopped, reaching her arms up to me. I picked her up with a little difficulty, but she was very small for her age, not looking a day older than six.

"Mommy, I didn't think you were ever going to come back…Aunt Suzy said you went far, far away and you wouldn't come back for a really long time…" The little girl in my arms was crying, and I tried to comfort her.

"Shh…honey, I'm here. It's okay. I love you, baby doll. And look who came with me!" She looked nervously at Roger, who was in awe of her beauty, and still hadn't adjusted to being a father. Then she saw Collins.

"Uncle Collins! Mommy, I saw him after you made me stay here in this stupid house. He comes home more than you do." She wriggled out of my arms and jumped on Collins. He would make such a great father…_so would Roger._ I watched him with my baby, feeling guilty that I hadn't come back to see her more frequently, jealous of the love and enthusiasm that she seemed to have for Collins. _But _I'm_ her mommy…it serves you right, Maureen, you selfish bitch._ I started to cry, which wasn't that obvious since a few tears were already dropping, but it got harder. Roger took me in his arms, noticing my pain, and rocked me in his arms, as we stood there in the doorway of my aunt and grandmother's house.

"Sweetie pie, where is Aunt Suzy?" _It's unusual for the little girl to be alone…I hope._

"Um…she went to go talk to grandma. Uncle Ben got in some trouble I think. But they don't ever tell me anything, Mommy." She wriggled out of Collins' arms and came back to me. I suggested that we sit down and wait for her to come back. I sat beside Roger, and Collins sat in a chair across from the couch. Elsie snuggled into my lap, and we all chuckled at the picture perfect little family scene. Elsie looked a little confused, but laughed with the rest of us, probably wanting to seem more grown up. She was playing with the sleeves of my jacket, and saw my cuts. She started crying, and I was startled, not having realized what she was doing. I quickly pulled my wrist back, restoring the sleeve to its rightful place, then hugged her. She pulled back.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"Mommy, you have a really bad boo-boo," she sniffled. My heart broke, and I started crying. The girl looked frightened, and in backing away ended up in Roger's lap, which startled her, and she climbed back into my lap. Roger laughed nervously, and took my right hand, squeezing it. Elsie looked up at me apologetically, not really knowing what she had done wrong, "Mommy, I'm sorry. Don't cry. I didn't mean to make you sad." I cried a little harder.

"Oh sweetie, it's not your fault. It just hurts a lot." I knew that my statement was ambiguous and she wouldn't really know what I meant, but I felt good that I wasn't lying to her completely. Then I realized that I had yet to introduce Roger, "Honey, look at this guy over here. Do you know who he is?" She shook her head. "Elsie, this is your daddy." He waved weakly, uncertain what to do.

"But Aunt Suzy said that he ran away and I would never see him!" Roger intervened.

"Aunt Suzy was right—I did run away. But your mommy found me. I didn't even know about you until today."

"Mommy, did you see him before today?"

"Yeah. I brought you back here when I found him."

"How come you didn't tell him about me?" The girl looked more confused than hurt.

"Because he had a different girlfriend and I didn't want to make him sad that he left me."

"But he should feel sad! You are the most nicest, prettiest, bestest lady in the whole world!" I was about to object when Roger cut in.

"I do feel sad. You're right—you're mom is the most amazing person that I have ever met. I never should have left." He was looking deep into my soul when he said this, and I could feel the sincere regret and hurt in his voice. The tiny shards of my shattered heart broke into even smaller pieces.

"So what's gonna happen now?" Her eyes were wide, and I could tell that she was excited to be included in something adult. I kissed her, and then looked into her eyes.

"What do you think should happen next?"

"I think that…"she looked back and forth among us nervously, shyly, "Daddy should leave his other girlfriend and we should all live together." Roger and I locked eyes, both having expected exactly what she had said.

"Honey, Daddy and I are going to go outside and talk for a minute. Go play with Collins, okay?" She hopped off of my lap quite contentedly, and ran over to Collins. I sighed, and led Roger outside. We sat on the stoop, and he dropped his head into his hands. I felt a pang of guilt. "Rog?"

"Yeah Mo?"

"I'm sorry." He lifted his head to look at me.

"For what?"

"I should've told you…"

"In some ways it would've been good to know."

"I should've told you before you left. None of this would be happening…" _You wouldn't have gotten AIDS if we stayed together…you wouldn't be dying… _At this realization, I broke down yet again.

"It isn't you fault that I got together with April, you know…"

"How did you…"

"The look in your eyes."

"This is precisely why I love you." I kissed him, gently. _I forgot he was sick…he looks so well. He may yet have a while until he goes…he looks strong…he is strong. And the disease…it won't really affect me, if we're careful. But he can't leave Mimi. I'm being selfish._ We both began speaking at the same instant. I let him go first.

"Mo, do you think that we should get back together?"

"What about Joanne and Mimi?"

"I don't know…I love Mimi, but I have always been in love with you. Whenever I try to write a song about Mimi…I think about your eyes, your song…"

"_Let's go over the moon…_" I sang gently, remembering that night.

"But, at the same time…you love Joanne, I love Mimi, and we love each other."

"Maybe we could try it…the four of us. You and Mimi and me and Joanne." He looked at me skeptically, then tried another idea on for size.

"Maybe we should just start off slow…visiting her every week or so. We could do that…maybe get everyone used to the idea…we'll have to see what Joanne thinks, and Mimi." _Mimi probably won't object. He doesn't want me to feel that Joanne is crazy and ridiculous. She'll probably leave me. Not that a child I had eight years ago has anything to do with me being loyal…_

"Roger, you are too perfect. That is exactly what we will do. And we can go from there. Oh, I missed my baby so much…" _I can't believe it's been four years already…I missed so much…I wonder what she's good at? What she likes? If she cries a lot? If she loves me, misses me? How badly did I break her heart? How much does she hate me?_

"So she was about four when you brought her back here?"

"Yeah…that was a mess. My mother had a cow that day, and I thought she was either going to kill me, or Elsie, or both of us. Thank God for my eccentric lezzie aunt…" Aunt Suzy approached the house as I said this.

"What about your crazy lezzie aunt? What're you doing back here? And who's this?" As I turned to her, I plastered a very phony smile on, putting on my usual mask. She didn't see through it, and I was grateful.

"This is Roger. We came to see our daughter. Collins is in there with her right now."

"You should've called first! Then I would've been able to prepare for your arrival!"

"It was spur of the moment—I finally told him about her." Suzy's face showed a sudden epiphany.

"How'd you find him?"

"One day about four years ago, I ran into him outside of a café." _So many things that nobody knows…little details etched into my mind, scenes keep repeating…but so many other little things forgotten…in the end will they really make a difference?_

"Oh! You moved in with him."

"Yeah, but we weren't together. I was with his roommate. Now I'm with Joanne." She raised her eyebrow, suppressing laughter.

"You've decided to become a lesbian?"

"Eh, I think I'm bi." Roger cleared his throat--again. _I forgot how annoying it is when he does that!_ "Oh, yeah…we're gonna come by more often now…like every weekend or so. Is that okay?"

"She will love that. You think you might take her to raise her? Eventually? Not to force your hand or anything, but…my workload will likely pick up within the next year, and your Grandmother's health is getting pretty bad…"

"Well, the woman _is_ ninety-two."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather Elsie not watch that decline…" I shuddered at the thought, not wanting to subject her to that.

"Actually, we were thinking about that, but just…after we ease into it. We need to figure out our relationship, and if we'll be together or not, and we have to introduce her to the rest of our little 'family' unit." Suzy looked relieved—the exact way that I felt. Roger looked a little overwhelmed, as we hadn't _really _decided we were going to bring her to the city with us—we were going to see how the rest of our lives unfolded. We went back into the house, to find Elsie and Collins playing with Barbies. _Oh, he needs to have a little girl. Elsie would be so good for all of us…but I bet Joanne would get pissed at me. And Mimi might feel a little weird, I guess. It might break poor Marky's heart even more. But, eventually, I'm sure that they will all love her. Angel will love her to pieces…is it a good idea? Well, no matter what happens from here, _I _need to be with her…she's my baby. _I was not looking forward to telling the others about this…


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: **This chapter is a little complicated, and I'm not quite sure if it makes all that much sense...please review :)

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Saturday, July 16th, 1989—The day that I learned I had a daughter, the day that I met her. Two days after her eighth birthday—_how bizarre that she was born on Bastille Day…almost ironic…or will she set us free?_ The biggest news in my life since I discovered that I had AIDS. But this was good news for a change. And she was beautiful—she had her mother's gorgeous eyes—a hazel that frequently took on an emerald hue. The eyes that I loved to sing about so much. I still can't believe that she is real. That was by far one of the best and scariest days of my life.

When we returned to the loft a couple of days later, everyone was silent, curious. Maureen, who had wanted to tell them right away, had finally given in to my desire to wait a little while. Collins, Angel, Mimi and I headed towards the Life Support meeting right away—and though nobody wanted to mention it, we could all sense Angel's declining health. She and Mimi, though usually so full of energy, would be found every now and then in an uncontrollable coughing fit, which scared the living daylights out of the rest of us. _Living daylight…how poetic._ We were all trying to ignore the reality of this disease. Nobody wanted to face that death was, in fact, inevitable, and the four of us were on the fast track to nowhere. _Maybe I shouldn't have asked Maureen, maybe I shouldn't have gone to see Elsie…I'm going to die…and hurt them both. I don't think that I can stand to leave them again…I shouldn't torture them like that. I can't do this whole father thing. I don't want the child to see what decline due to AIDS is like…hell, _I_ don't want to see what it's like…I've seen the beginnings on other people in the Life Support group…people who have faded away…deadly darkness…I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to die…_

"Roger?" We on the way to Life Support, and it became evident to me that I was being asked a question.

"Mmm?" Mimi glared at me.

"You weren't listening, were you?"

"I'm sorry I was…distracted." She rolled her eyes at me, and hit me upside the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You were thinking about Maureen, weren't you?"

"Huh? Where did that come from? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You disappear with her for two days and you don't expect me to expect that you were _doing_ something with her? And you won't tell me what it was? What is wrong with you, Roger?" Angel and Collins looked at each other, and I wondered whether Angel knew of Elsie or not. I figured that Collins probably told her—she could keep a secret. And she was a neutral party—she was ever the peacemaker. I turned around to head back to the loft, but Collins stood in front of me, blocking my path.

"Don't do this. Mimi doesn't know…she's jealous. She is, however, taking this better than Joanne is. And you know Mimi. She freaks out for a little bit, but inevitably you guys will get back together. This is the first time that _you_ did something 'wrong'. And once she knows what exactly that something was, she will forgive you."

"I don't know if I can be with her anymore. Especially right now. My head is spinning, and her health is not great. I don't want to leave her—I think that I love her, but…I don't want to watch her die. And I don't want to abandon Maureen again…but at the same time, she's got her own girlfriend too…anyway, you know how we are when we fight. Mimi is going to need some time before she is willing to talk to me objectively, and I need some time to sort out my brain. I just don't think that I can handle her death glares during the group session."

"Alright, then, Roger…just… don't do anything stupid, okay?" I rolled my eyes, and punched him playfully in the side. "DAVIS! That was stupid!" He chased me down the sidewalk and we wrestled a bit. Of course, he won.

"You're right—OW! That was stupid. Now go to your meeting. You'll be late!"

"Catch you later, Rog." As the group headed away, I was torn. I didn't know whether to go back to the loft and wallow in self-pity or go to Maureen. I didn't want to complicate things for her, and I especially didn't want to face the wrath of Joanne. Joanne was probably at work still; it was only the early evening. _I should call her. That way, if Joanne picks up, I can hang up. If not, I can ask if we can talk. In person._ I headed towards the nearest payphone, which, I realized, was about halfway between my loft and Joanne's place.

"Hello?"

"Maureen?"

"Roger?"

"Yeah. Listen…I really want to talk to you about…stuff. But I don't want to make things more difficult for you or anything…do you want to meet me and…I don't know…take a walk or something?"

"Um…sure. Joanne probably won't be back for a while, so that would be okay."

"Okay. I'll be there soon." I hung up feeling very uncertain, not knowing what I would say to her. _Don't hurt her anymore than you already have…don't let her suspect your fears…don't show her._ When I finally made it to her apartment, I stood there for a couple of minutes, incapable making myself knock on the door despite the fact that I needed to see her. I inhaled deeply and rapped sharply on the door.

"Come in! It's not locked!" _Somehow that's not surprising._ I entered the apartment, not seeing Maureen, obviously; otherwise she would've opened the door herself.

"Mo where are you?"

"I'm in the bathroom. I'll be there in a second." _What is she doing in there? Should I be concerned? I guess I'll ask her when she comes out…I have to be careful with her. Nobody else sees that she is falling to pieces. Not even Mark. He just thinks that bringing up the past was saddening for her. They can't see that she is depressed…not even Joanne, apparently…she doesn't want them to. All I can do is take care of her…try not to hurt her…but how can I do that?_ "Ready to go, Rog?" I nodded in response, ushering her out the door, and she actually remembered to lock it for once. _That's probably because she's trying to atone for disappearing with me. Maureen must really want things to work out with Joanne…I never really believed that she loved Joanne…or maybe I just didn't want to face the facts._

"Mo…how are you holding up?"

"Well, as you can probably tell by the fact that I locked the door, I am on eggshells around Joanne, trying to do some damage control. I don't really know how much I really love her, but I really don't want to be alone, you know?"

"Collins told me that she reacted worse than Mimi did to this whole ordeal…I'm so sorry to have caused you more pain. I know what you've been going through."

"What are you talking about? I'm fine."

"People who are fine don't slit their wrists. People who are fine don't have panic attacks. You are not fine. I know that nobody else can see it, but I can. The fact that I am the only one who can see through you frightens me. I worry about you, Mo. All the time." She lowered her eyes, and we continued walking in silence. We had made our way to the Life Café, without even realizing where we were going, and sat at a corner table._ Only fitting from two such hidden people._

"Roger…I don't think that you have the right to say things like that to me anymore…" I could tell that she didn't mean what she was saying from the pained expression on her face, and the way that she couldn't look me in the eye. _She is afraid of getting hurt and seeming vulnerable._

"I'm not going to tell anyone that I am concerned about you, but you need to talk to me. We can keep up the whole façade that we have going on here, but you _have _to be real with me. What's going on?" She looked into my eyes coldly. It wasn't a look that I was accustomed to receiving from her.

"Why do you even care? Because all of a sudden you have a daughter?" My heart sank at the implication, feeling in my heart that she knew otherwise, but the guilt was overwhelming. I wasn't used to her being angry at me…hurt, yes, but this rage was something completely different. It was as if the façade that we had put on for the rest of the world to hide the pain and longing between us had taken over completely, and whatever it was that we had shared before, and for the past couple of days, was completely a figment of my imagination. _Or is she hiding something?_ I realized that she was looking beyond me, not into my eyes. _She's probably glaring at her reflection in the window—this is fake emotion. She's trying to push me away. Should I let her? Wasn't that what I came here to do to her? Neither of us wants to get hurt by this…but what about Elsie? I really want to see her, get to know her._

"Maureen…" I waited until she brought her eyes to mine, "You and I both know that isn't true. And we can sit here with you and your fake rage, or we can talk about this objectively. I don't want to have false pretenses between us anymore—can't we just be honest?"

"I don't think that it was a good idea for us to reconnect like that. It's too painful to know…" her voice trailed off, as if her mask were finally cracking.

"To know what?" _Stupid question._ She glared at me. _To know what we could have had if I hadn't left. If I were a decent human being…_ "I'm sorry, Mo. You were happy with your life before all of this. I have got to stop fucking stuff up for you." Her gaze softened for a moment, and she opened her mouth, as if to say something, but quickly shut it, and her eyes narrowed.

"Then why do you keep doing it? Why don't you just leave me the fuck alone?"

"It was you idea to tell them about all this shit in the first place!"

"If you hadn't fucking left in the first place, we wouldn't be here, would we! If you had just let me be, we wouldn't have _her_ and…"

"And you would've killed yourself! Would that really have been so much better?"

"YES!" _Is that what this is really all about? How much she hates herself?_

"Well I couldn't let you do that."

"Why the fuck not? God forbid you should stop tormenting me!"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!" She looked defeated, and countered softly,

"Why do you have to keep complicating my life?"_ Does it hurt her that we can't be together? She's trying so hard with Joanne…I don't want to jeopardize that. I don't want to cause her any more pain._ Her cell phone started to ring. "Pookie? What? Angel? Slow down. Fuck. I'll be right there. Roger? I haven't seen him. He's not at the loft? Oh. Okay, I'll keep and eye out for him. I'll be there in a few, babe." She dropped her head into her hands, and mumbled something to me about Angel being in the hospital.

"Did they say what happened?"

"He…uh…she has some sort of infection—a cold or something. Probably won't die from it…at least not right away…probably won't leave the hospital…"

"Oh God…this is the beginning of the end, isn't it?"

"End of what?"

"Life as we know it…our family…everything." _Until it's just her, Mark, and Joanne left. I'm being selfish to want to come back into her life. I'll just hurt her by dying. But who knows how long I've got left? Our problems are on hold now, though…another death. But this time unfair…_We rose from the table that we had been sitting at, and I put my arm around her shoulders, keeping her physically as close to me as possible, and she put an arm around my waist. We walked all the way to the hospital in a daze, incapable of speech. Neither of us cried. Before entering the building, we separated. Maureen went to the bathroom, and I fought the urge to follow her, and found Mark, who informed me that we had to sit in the waiting room as they ran a few tests and such. He, Collins, and Joanne were talking in a dull, low whisper, their faces solemn.

"I see you found the note at the loft?" He looked at me dully, not caring to hear the answer, just speaking to keep his mind off of the matter at hand.

"Yeah."

"Where'd you go?"

"I was on a walk. Where's Mimi?"

"Bathroom, I think." _Good thing I didn't follow Maureen…I hope Mimi doesn't flip out at her._ Joanne spoke next.

"I wonder where Maureen is. She should be here by now." I held my tongue, not wanting to incriminate myself to a slaughtering by an intimidating black lawyer. We sat for a few moments in silence, my gaze wandering to a distraught Collins, who didn't seem to have heard any of our discussion, and I watched him for a few moments, until Maureen waltzed in, seeming to have done a fantastic job of pulling herself together. _I know this act all to well…but I don't want to cause a scene._ Mimi entered a few minutes later, and wouldn't even look at me. She sat by Collins instead, and they spoke softly. Maureen and I were now the only two people not involved in idle chatter, sitting across from each other now, saying nothing. My eyes wandered to her wrists, which had those damn leather cuffs on them, but despite them, I could still see the very end of what looked like a relatively deep cut, though I couldn't really tell. It was still bleeding a little, which apparently she felt, because she wiped it with her hand, which she in turn wiped discreetly on her black denim pants. She wouldn't look at me, either, her eyes glued to the floor until Joanne sat beside her. They embraced silently, which I could tell was a truce for the present moment. I stood up and walked away, started pacing. Shortly thereafter, a nurse came out and informed us that we could go in to see her.

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_What the fuck am I thinking? I didn't want him to think that I was mad at him! I don't want him to hate me. And why am I wallowing in self-pity as everyone else is sitting out there worrying about Angel?_ I slid the cold metal through my skin, filled with relief as blood started to gather.

"Hope you had a good time with Roger." _Fuck. Who is that? Mimi?_ I hid my wrist behind my back as I spun around to face her.

"What is your problem?"

"That you've been fucking my boyfriend." _Yeah, because I fuck everyone and have no sense of boundaries. Glad she thinks so highly of me._

"What the fuck? Mimi, you know I wouldn't do that!"

"You fucked Mark, didn't you? Why else would you have him over at your apartment?"

"Contrary to popular belief, sex is not the only thing that I think about. Stop busting Roger's balls about this, okay?"

"Now why should I do that?"

"There's a good explanation, but this is not the time to be getting into it. You can continue to be petty if you want, but you'll regret it." I was putting my leather cuff back on my wrist behind my back, and as soon as it was secure, I pivoted and left, donning my mask again. I sat on a couch opposite of Roger, not wanting to approach Joanne, being that I didn't want any more drama than necessary, and she had been volatile ever since my visit to Elsie. I didn't want to talk to Roger either, especially after how stupidly I had acted, so I fixed my gaze on the ugly floor tiles. I felt the cushions sink slightly, and raised my eyes to see Joanne sitting beside me. She looked deep into my eyes, sadly, extending her arms to me, and I found my place between them, feeling oddly safe. _Being with Roger wouldn't be safe. Joanne may be predictable and boring, but she'll always be there…Roger is unpredictable…he will leave me…he will die. I'm happy to be right where I am…_

"You can see her now." I was lifted from my peaceful daze, remembering where I was, and blinked at the nurse who stood before me. I rose absently and started to walk. I felt a hand on my arm steadying me as we neared her room, and turned to see Mark.

"Thanks." I smiled sheepishly. He looked at me blankly for a moment before averting his gaze. I couldn't read him, though I sensed his disdain for my supposed "affair" with Roger, which explained his distance. I stopped for a moment, steadying myself against the wall, slightly out of breath. The rest of the group seemed to be in the same zombie-like state that I had been in, and didn't seem to notice that I had stopped. My heart started beating faster, and I turned to face the wall, not knowing what to do…_breathe, just breathe through it. What is going on with me? Panic attacks? What is all of this about? I don't want to be alone…_

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We entered Angel's room solemnly, in a daze, but despite the whole ordeal, she was as bright and cheery as ever, insisting that we stop looking like we were attending a funeral, as she was still alive. Each one of us hugged her, and it was then that we realized that Maureen was no longer with us. _Where did she go? I want to go find her…oh Lord, where is she? I hope she's okay…but if I go it will complicate things…_I looked desperately at Collins, who volunteered to go look for her. I sighed, wanting desperately to go with him, to make sure she was okay. Angel, who sensed my discomfort, nodded to me, indicating that I should go, and I excused myself to the bathroom. When I left the room, a few hundred feet away from the room that Angel was in, I found Collins sitting on the floor besides a very pale looking Maureen, who was having difficulty breathing, her eyes wide, and I could tell that she was scared. I ran over to her quickly and took her hand in mine. From up close, I could see her whole body trembling.

"Deep breaths, Mo. Slow, deep breaths." She was as scared as I had ever seen in my life, clearly not knowing what was happening to her. I knew how to deal with panic attacks because my mother had been an alcoholic, in addition to being a fan of coffee and cigarettes, all three of which contributed, as a doctor had told me once when I had to take her into the hospital, the first time she had a panic attack. The entire time that I had lived at home as a teenager, I had to deal with these horrible outbreaks, but I had learned to be calm through them. She squeezed my hand tightly, and I held her, rubbing her back with my free hand. "Shh honey…you're okay. Everything's alright." After about ten minutes, the attack subsided. It was understood that we were never to speak of this again. I helped her up from the ground, and she stood, a little shaky still, but she assured me that she would be okay. "Maureen, what's going on?"

"Just because you helped me through that doesn't mean you get to ask me that."

"You bitch." If she was going to be petty, I might as well. I couldn't stand to hurt her anymore. While insults weren't exactly harmless, they would put valuable distance between us, which would allow me to stop breaking her heart and complicating her life. It was better not to have her than to have her resent me, or break her heart by getting back together with her and ending up breaking her heart. "Forget I even said anything before. That will make your life _simpler_, I'm sure. Sorry to have caused you any inconvenience. Go rot in Hell." She looked utterly astounded at what I had said, and even briefly hurt, but she quickly guarded her eyes, shooting back some venomous remark before turning on the heel of her boot and waltzing into Angel's room, Collins following at her heels. I stood there, astounded. _What the hell just happened?_


	6. Chapter 6

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I was smiling as I walked into Angel's room, trying to seem like absolutely nothing had happened, but instead I was breaking apart. _How could I have been so stupid? What have I gotten myself into this time? I know that I hurt him…but what if I can't fix it this time? I've never seen him look so cold before…like anything we had between us was gone. But isn't that what I wanted? Otherwise I wouldn't have acted the way that I did…_

"Hey Maureen! Come give Angel a hug!" Her warm, cheery voice made me jump, lost as I had become in my bitterness and self-hatred. I gave her a huge hug, lingering in the embrace for a long moment. "Honey, how are you feeling today?" she whispered, so softly that only I could hear her.

"I…I'm a wreck. I just had a panic attack…and I don't know why…and Roger…"

"He really cares about you, honey. The only reason he didn't dash out of here after you was that he didn't want to make a scene again. That would've made things worse." I nodded, and whispered silently in agreement, tears streaming out of my eyes as she held me.

"I really blew it this time, Angel. And we can never be together anyway…" Angel looked me in the eye, and sensing my need for reassurance, my need to just talk to her, asked the others to leave, who looked at each other, puzzled, but Collins herded them out of the room. She patted the spot in the bed beside her, and I crawled up next to her. Her spirit seemed brighter now then ever, despite the fact that her body was slowly dying. I treasured each moment I had with her, and moments alone with her were the most precious.

"Honey…what happened?" I sighed and propped my head on my elbow, so that I could look her in the eyes.

"I don't know…I started pushing him away after we got back, because I realized…that this would just break us down, and cause more pain and regret. And I really don't want to lose Joanne…I can't stand to be alone, and I hate breaking her heart…and more than that I don't want Roger to lose Mimi on my account…they are so good for each other. But I want my Elsie, and she deserves to know her father, although I don't want him to break her heart, too…and he…I…it's so hard thinking about what we could've had if he hadn't…run away. It's my fault…and he wouldn't be sick…and…"

"But what happened out there? I know he went out to find you. And you had a panic attack? Then what?"

"Well…this all started when I went to the Life with him earlier today. I could tell that he was really worried about me, and we were both confused…but he kept trying to get in, and I kept pushing him away…and I said such awful things…and he said he loved me…and I told him…to stop making my life so difficult…and then Joanne called…and then we came here…and I couldn't take it anymore…" I removed the cuffs from my wrists and revealed the deep incisions in my wrists, which were still bleeding since Mimi had interrupted me. Angel drew me into her arms as I sobbed. When I had calmed down, she looked me in the eye.

"Did it surprise you that he told you he loved you?"

"No. I love him too. It's just too complicated for us to love each other. There would be too many casualties."

"So did you two fight in the hallway?"

"Yeah. I was being stupid, and I wouldn't tell him what was wrong…I just kept pushing him away, and finally…he told me to rot in Hell." I was crying steadily by now, and when I wiped my eyes, I streaked blood across my face. _Why am I always such a fucking mess? And why the fuck am I making this about myself? She's dying._

"Oh, sweetie. You know that he didn't mean it." She wiped the streaks of blood from my face.

"Yeah, but I don't know if he knows that I didn't mean it. And regardless of how much we love each other, it doesn't change anything. And his relationship with Mimi is volatile, and her health is declining…" I couldn't help myself from completely breaking down as I said this, knowing that my Angel wouldn't be around when Mimi expired. _Oh God…this really is the beginning of the end. It's all going to fall apart. Even Roger…it will just be me, Mark and Joanne…_ "Angel…why do you have leave me? Why do you have to leave us? I'm the bad one…the world needs more people like you…not me."

"Oh honey, don't talk like that. You are worth so much more than you know. The world needs you—Elsie needs you. You hear her calling to you…it haunts you, doesn't it?" I lay there, stunned. "What? I am an Angel." We both laughed, but in my heart I knew that it was the truth. _She's my guardian angel…how can she be leaving me? What will we do without her?_ "Maureen, will you bring her here to see me? I would love to see her before I go." _How can she address death so calmly, so casually? How can she not care that she is leaving us here, defenseless?_ A few renegade tears slid silently down my face as I nodded.

"What are we going to do without you, Angel? How are we going to survive?"

"Nothing ever dies. It only changes. I will be with you always, my baby." I snuggled in closer to her, burying my face in her chest.

"It's not fair! It's not right that we should have you for such a short time! Why must life tempt us with what can never be?" She rubbed my back, consoling me through the questions that couldn't be answered, and her words repeated themselves in my head…_ "Nothing ever dies…it only changes…"_

"Maureen, honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I hastily put my leather cuffs back on my wrists, smiling at her sadly, wiped my eyes, kissed her forehead and told her I would be back later, but I was going to let other people see her. She saw through my evasive tactics, but told me it was okay as long as I came back.

"Send Roger in next, would you?" I nodded tentatively, and walked out of the room, pulling myself together.

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"Rog? She wants to see you." I looked her over, her tear-streaked face, a little blood that had somehow made it onto her face, streaks of mascara. I nodded, placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her in the eye gently, and suddenly I knew that we were both pushing each other away, both of us aware. At least for the time being. I whispered to Joanne to take good care of her and be gentle as I exited, and I saw Joanne approach Maureen, who collapsed into her arms, as I left. _At least Joanne will treat her well when she needs it. Despite all of their fights, Joanne always knows when Maureen really needs her to be there. Nobody else would suspect that Maureen is a sensitive as she is. I don't even think that Mark quite understands how fragile she is, though I know he still puts her up on that pedestal…_

"Roger! How are you?"

"I feel like shit. How is she? Did she do it again? Cut herself?" She patted the spot on the bed beside her, and I sat.

"She did it again. She misses you. You're both scared, and I can't tell you what the best thing to do is, but as long as you both understand why you are putting this distance between you, I think it's all for the best. Things will work out. She just needs to be comforted and reassured…she doesn't know how to handle the reality that you, Mimi and Collins will eventually follow me. I know you aren't even comfortable with it, but you need to spend time with Mimi…and Maureen needs Elsie, more than anyone, and Joanne to reassure her that in the end, she won't be alone."

"We'll never get a second chance, will we?"

"You never know. Don't lose faith. And don't let her slip away. Even if your relationship remains platonic, she needs you, and you need her."

"I feel so guilty…I love Mimi so much, but…Maureen is just…everything I ever wanted and more than I could have imagined possible. I always thought that we belonged together…but I don't want to leave her when I die. Maybe that's why I chose Mimi…I mean, we had chemistry, but it wasn't just that. When I found out that she was dying too... At least we will still have Elsie as our bond. Living proof."

"You need to get to know your daughter. That's important. And you'll find your groove with Maureen eventually. I don't know how it will all unfold, but I know if you have faith in her, she will have faith in you, and everything will fall into place."

"Angel, why do you have to leave? How will we make it without you? Death is too definite." She embraced me, and I knew that I was exactly where I needed to be, and every day happened just the way it had to. I felt her sense of peace, and only wished that Maureen could have, too. _I guess I've finally started to come to terms with death. Maybe it's easier when you could be next._ When she let me go, I felt profoundly sad, but still somehow at peace. I went back to the waiting room and embraced Mimi, who apologized to me almost immediately. Somehow Angel had sobered us, made our anger disappear, as Joanne held Maureen, and Mimi and I held each other, rocking in the waiting rooms. Collins was with Angel, and Mark was capturing their love on film, so that we could remember it forever.

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"You always said how lucky you were that we were all friends. But it was us, baby, who were the lucky ones." _Halloween. Angel's favorite holiday…mine too. I can't believe she's gone…this closed coffin makes it feel all the more unreal…like at any minute she could pop out of it, shouting "Surprise!". But I know it's real. I watched her body slowly break down into nothing…the lesions taking over her body, her eyes dulling, muscles atrophying. She left her body a long time ago…her mental status unstable for the last month or so of her life…we knew she was gone. It's not fair. She was the most amazing person ever to walk the planet…we didn't deserve her. And somehow she always felt privileged that _we_ were _her_ friends. I will never understand that._ Roger and I had brought Elsie in to meet Angel a couple of days after she was first put in the hospital, and she fell in love with the little girl. Elsie loved Angel, too, and didn't seem at all to mind the lesions, the decay…she saw Angel as we did. We brought her in at least once a week until Angel's mind started to go. There was no point—Angel was not longer there—it was just and empty shell. Roger and I still weren't comfortable with each other at first, but in private we began to be able to communicate intimately like we used to, though in front of the others it was still rather awkward. Discussing our relationship and how we should go about raising Elsie were uncomfortable topics, which brought out the worst in both of us, since we had hurt each other so badly. We had been really good about only visiting Angel when Joanne and Mimi were elsewhere, but they were still always suspicious. The fact that we would both disappear together for a day or so seemed very suspicious, but none of us could use the extra drama. Collins and even the dying, damaged Angel tried to calm them, talk some sense into them, with little success. Now Roger and Mimi were broken up, as were Joanne and I. Mimi had gone to the yuppie scum…Benny, of all people, simply because he could pay and keep her heat on. _What the Hell is Roger thinking, being with this girl?_

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"She's in denial!" _Joanne was angry and suspicious. I couldn't believe that she would say something like that, something that would destroy Maureen's sanity. Sure, the two of them had broken up due to Maureen's tendency to flirt, but the flirting was innocent. Maureen never cheated…she was loyal. I couldn't believe how little about Maureen Joanne actually knew, considering that Joanne was usually pretty in tune to when Maureen was about to break. _

"He's in denial!" _Where did that come from? Denial? She left me, and I didn't go after her. She pursued the yuppie scum. She's the one with the problem…_

"Wouldn't give an inch when I gave a mile!" _That is the most selfish thing I have ever heard! Maureen has been falling to pieces, unable to pull herself together, cutting herself, starving herself, barely able to function, which only Joanne and I knew…I thought that Joanne understood that Maureen was doing the best that she could given the circumstances. How could she say that?_

"I gave a mile!" I glared at her, astonished. _My God, Mimi. You hooked up with Benny! I'm innocent. You had the affair. With the enemy of Avenue A, no less._

"Gave a mile to who?" _Our relationship was always volatile…mostly due to Mimi's fears and addictions. She certainly hadn't tried hard for me—she couldn't even forgive me of an affair that she couldn't prove had happened, because it hadn't…even though I wanted it to. Look at this, Angel hasn't even been physically dead for a week, and already our family is in shambles. I feel for Collins. He has a hard enough time grieving…but all this extra drama will piss him off…making it harder than it should be. Mimi and Joanne are way out of line, acting completely selfish…making this all about their drama instead of remembering and celebrating Angel's life. How could they?_

"I'd be happy to die for a taste of what Angel had…someone to love for, unafraid to say I love you…" _Selfish bitches._

**Author's note:** This chapter's a little weird. Review, please. Looking for at least four reviews...preferably.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: _Please review!_** I really want to know what you guys think! (You better or I might not update...)

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Great. Just great—where am I supposed to live now? Angel's funeral, and Joanne had to make it all about her. Meanwhile, Mimi did the same thing with Roger—but she was with the yuppie scum. _At least Joanne doesn't have someone new yet…_ Of course, Joanne and I had already broken up, but we were somehow managing to live together—mostly since she was at work all day, and wouldn't come back until I had already fallen asleep. We rarely spoke, and I barely saw her, Hell, I wasn't even awake when she left in the morning. I had to sleep on a spare mattress in a spare room, and I could tell that she was close to kicking me out because of the mess I made, and my lack of contribution to the rent. I hadn't thought we were on such bad terms—that maybe I had just needed to wait for her anger to blow over, and then we would be okay again, like every other time that we had fought. After what she did today…I don't know if I can stand to live their…but I have nowhere else to go. At least Roger wasn't living with Mimi— speaking of which, I couldn't very well move back in with the boys. Either Mark or Mimi would surely have me slaughtered. _But Mimi's living with Benny…_ Well, Mark wouldn't actively kill me, but his disappointment in what he presumed to be true would kill me, especially because keeping secrets wasn't my forte. _Maybe Joanne and I can get back together? Maybe she'll let me stay? Maybe I could convince the boys to let me stay…great. I haven't even left the cemetery, and I have no idea where I am going to live. This has been a good day…_I started fingering the razorblade in my pocket, as I started to wander away from the rest of the group, going unnoticed as Mark and Benny were still attempting to curb Joanne and Mimi's rage, and Collins was pleading with him to respect his need for peace. _Poor Collins…Joanne is such a bitch. I never should have brought her into this group…it's my fault._ Roger was apologizing to Collins, trying to console him, and they started to look back on better times. _Roger is such a good friend—I can't believe that he has known Collins for practically his whole life…like I've known Roger. But nobody can rely on me. I can't rely on anybody else, either. I'm being selfish—this is Angel's day…I can't do anything right._

"MAUREEN!" It was Joanne. I blinked, realizing that I was collapsed behind an enormous monument to some forgotten person, sobbing, my jacket thrown carelessly on the ground, my arms a mess of random, angry cuts of various lengths and depths, the actual slits obscured by bleeding almost as steady as my tears. _Nothing life-threatening. I know how to deal with these. Nothing new. But she never knew about this…_ "Honeybear…are you okay?" Her voice grew softer, cooing almost. She reached out to touch my arms, but I pulled back, turning my back to her. "MAUREEN! Look at me." Her voice was firm again, commanding. I turned around, looking her angrily in the eyes.

"What do you want from me? This is Angel's day. It was hard enough without all of this shit about Roger and I. You don't even know the truth…" She smirked, but then thought the better of it, her eyes curious, wanting to trust me. _The only thing I can do to redeem myself is to tell the truth…but that would be bad. Who knows how she will take it? What if she still thinks that I fucked him? What about Mimi? Roger doesn't want to tell her…the fewer people who know, the better. _

"Well? Either tell me or I'm gone." She wasn't going to give up. I searched for a tissue in my coat pocket, knowing I had some, given that we were going to a funeral. Upon finding the package, I liberated one and began to swipe at my arm, and muttered the story under my breath, my eyes fixed on the ground, the tears blurring my vision and making the task of cleaning myself up even more difficult. I told her all about the visits that I made to Hicksville, that we had taken Elsie to see Angel…she withdrew into her own head, becoming very quiet, not what I would have expected from her. She moved closer to me, taking another tissue from the package, and tenderly wiping some excess blood off of my left arm, trying to get the bleeding to stop. After several minutes, she pulled me into her, and I buried my face in her chest.

"Joanne I'm so sorry…I'm sorry…I should have told you…but I was scared…but that was stupid…I should have trusted you. I'm the unfaithful one, the one to overreact. You would've probably taken it well…I don't know…."

"Shh, honey, it's my fault. I didn't trust you. And my temper scared you. It's okay. We're okay."

"You…can't…tell…Mimi. Roger…has to…when the time…is right." She rubbed my back reassuringly, and I pulled myself together. As we left the cemetery, we saw that the others had already gone, except for Collins, who was standing before the fresh pile of dirt, her grave. I hugged him, not able to comprehend the depth of his loss, but feeling truly empathetic. I apologized, but Joanne interjected, taking the blame for her actions. He smiled weakly, and I kissed him on the cheek, hugging him tightly once more, telling him not to stay for too long. Joanne threw her arm around my shoulders and we trudged towards her car, the depth of our loss once again sinking in. We couldn't be truly happy for the peace that we had just made, given the circumstances.

When we got home, drained from the depth of the events of the day, the painful loss we had endured, and all of the things that we still had to sort out…we collapsed into the bed, holding each other tightly, grateful just to have each other. The ringing of my cell phone, which, thankfully, hadn't disturbed my sleeping lover, rudely awakened me. Groggily, I shuffled over to my purse, which I had thrown on the floor.

"Hello?" My voice was raspy, tired. I sat gently on the edge of the bed.

"It's me." _Roger._ I could tell that he was distraught, but I couldn't tell why. _Probably Mimi…_

"Honey, what's wrong?" I heard a sob escape from his body, and longed to be with him, to comfort him.

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"Honey, what's wrong?" _What's wrong? I'm driving to Santa Fe. I'm running away. I want her to hold me. I miss her. I miss Elsie. I think I miss Mimi. I miss Angel. I don't know what I want. I'm alone—like Mark, but physically distanced as well._ "Roger? Are you okay?" The concern in her voice was growing as she came into full consciousness, comprehending. _Probably remembering that I'm gone. It's so good just to hear her voice…_

"Yeah." My voice was sharp, coarse, my breathing ragged.

"Did you use…?"

"Yeah." This started a fresh wave of tears, and I felt like a girl. _It would be so much easier if I had just…_

"Where are you?" I looked around, realizing that I had no idea, beyond the fact that I was at some gas station in some state, on a payphone, paid for with spare change found in the glove box of the cheap car that I had bought with the money from my Fender…my baby. I didn't have much money left…I shouldn't have wasted it on smack.

"On the road…somewhere…I wish you were here…oh God, Mo…I feel like shit. I just…needed you." I sighed, cursing myself for having run away from her the first time.

"Oh…honey…I don't know what to say…I wish I were with you…I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?"

"I don't know. It just sounded right." I laughed, longing to look into her eyes.

"Mo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I can't stop thinking about you. I don't know why I called you. Go back to sleep." There were so many things that I longed to say, that I loved her…that I needed her. But I held my tongue.

"When will I hear from you again? Will you come back? Rog?"

"Goodbye, Maureen. Take care of Els."

"Roger! Wai-" I hung up, not able to listen to her pleading, needing to get away from her, my thoughts of her. _Think about Mimi. What're you going to do about her? Don't you love her? You're upset that she left you for Benny, but she's dying. You're dying. You deserve each other. You need to be with her. It's only fair that you are together. It wouldn't be fair to Maureen and Elsie to be with them. God! Stop thinking about Maureen!_

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It had been thirty days since he left, since he called me. I hadn't heard from him since. _Why did he leave? Why is he in to Santa Fe? I need him back here. I need to sort things out. He needs to know that I love him. He needs to know that Elsie needs him. He needs to know that Joanne knows. He needs to be with Mimi—her days are limited._ I dropped my head into my hands, and Joanne sat up in the bed.

"Maureen? What's wrong?" She pulled me further onto the bed, looking into my eyes. "It's Roger, isn't it?" I nodded, sighing. Our apartment phone began to ring, and Joanne went off to answer it in the other room. I heard distress in her voice, followed by a series of low whispers, which I couldn't understand from the bedroom. _Oh God…what happened?_ She returned to the room in a daze, and I panicked. _I hope nothing happened to Roger…why would I think it was about him? Nobody's even heard from him._ "Honey…Mimi's gone missing."

"Oh God. Um…okay. God." I couldn't verbalize my emotions. _How will we find Roger?_ "Let's go to the loft…"

"Mark probably needs help. Being alone was bad enough, and Benny had to spring this on him. Collins isn't even in town." I nodded, and we quickly dressed and left the apartment solemnly.

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I got off of the bus, unsure of how it felt to be back in Alphabet City. I trudged up to the loft, unannounced, passing by Mark, Maureen, Joanne, and Benny, who were sitting around in the living room area. I was too tired to notice the bizarre behavior—they were all quiet, solemn, and none of them seemed to have noticed my arrival. I went into my room and flopped onto the bed. I didn't know why I had come back, and whether it was because I had missed Mimi or Maureen. _Where is Mimi?_ Santa Fe had left me feeling empty and alone, and I had realized what a foolish idea it was from the moment that I called Maureen, but I was attempting to make her life with Joanne go more smoothly. Every time I had tried to write a song about Mimi, prove to myself that I truly loved her, the song ended up being about Maureen, her eyes. I had finally gotten myself to a point where I realized that because I loved Maureen so much, I had to love Mimi. I had to be with her as she wasted away. She had to be my life so that I didn't ruin Maureen's. I did love Mimi—a lot. Don't get me wrong—if I had never met Maureen, Mimi would have been all that I could have ever possibly dreamed of in a woman. If I hadn't have had a daughter with Maureen, shared my whole life with her, if I had met them both simultaneously, I don't know whether I would be so enamored with Maureen or not. I had to push my longing for her out of my mind…_it's for the greater good._ There was a gentle knock on my door.

"Yeah?"

"It's me." _Maureen. God, I've missed her so…_

"Come in." She gently pushed the door open just enough so that she could pass through, and shut it quickly.

"How have you been?" _A mess, trying to convince myself not to love you, that I am in love with Mimi. Trying to tell myself that breaking you heart is the only possible outcome, that I can't let you in because I will inevitably leave you…_I didn't dare look into her eyes, because that would have been the end of me. Somehow she would've been able to see everything.

"Good. The time away put things in perspective." She looked at me skeptically, but didn't want to protest—not looking like she had the strength. She looked really exhausted.

"What have you been up to?" Her entire body tensed. "It's okay Mo, just tell me. It will be better to know." She knew that I was right and hung her head, beginning to mumble something. "Maureen," I said softly, "I can't understand what you're saying." She lifted her eyes to meet mine.

"Mimi's been missing for well over a month…we don't know where she is…we've looked." Tears started to spill over from my eyes, tears stemming from powerful emotion that I didn't know that I had felt for Mimi…wasn't sure if I did, or maybe it was just the shock? Or maybe it was because of the same reasons that everyone else was distraught—she was a member of our family, who could be dead and none of us would even know. _How'd I let _her_ slip away, too? _The words to the song that I had written about Maureen's eyes flooded my mind, lyrics filing in, one line after the next. For each line, I realized there was not only my passion for Maureen, the inspiration for the song, but also my hidden regrets from my relationship with Mimi…


	8. Chapter 8

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"Your eyes/As we said our goodbyes/Can't get them out of my mind…" _It feels awkward singing these words to Mimi…but I at least owe it to her to make her feel that I love her in her last moments of life…even though I can't help but think of Maureen, secretly longing for Mimi to depart, even though she is a dear friend and of course it is sad to watch her go. The words provoke intense emotion…love…heartbreak, and as I look into her eyes, I see Maureen…this has got to be a sin of some sort, but I have tried to hard to love her…_

"…And I find I can't hide/From your eyes…" _I can feel Maureen's eyes boring a hole in my back, and I know that she can tell this is for her. I think that she resents it. Maybe I should just drop the illusion, let go of my dream of being with her. But she and Joanne aren't on great terms right now…I want to tell Mo that I love her. But now is not the time. Or place._

"…The ones that took me by surprise/The night you came into my life…" _That night when we discovered each other…when we connected…when I really _saw_ her for the first time…_

"…Where there's moonlight I see your eyes…" _Everywhere I go, everything I do…I can't stop thinking of Maureen, even now as I am watching my "girlfriend" die, as I realized that love is not something that can be manufactured…even as I shot up, even as I ran away to Santa Fe, as I wandered among strangers, her eyes followed me…even while I was high…her wounded, fierce voice, her desperation…I saw hurt, anger, disappointment, love…all of her. Her passion, beauty… 'let's go over the moon…'_

"…How'd I let you slip away/When I'm longing so to hold you…" _Ever since I left her behind, I have longed for her touch, caress. I never meant for things to get so out of hand, I didn't want to get hurt, but my fears were unfounded and I knew it…and because of me, her life and potential have been decimated. Because I was selfish. And now she hurts because I love her…all I want is to hold her in my arms and tell her that everything will be okay, that I am there for her…_

"…Now I'd die for one more day/'Cause there's something/I should have told you/Yes there's something/I should have told you…" _I hope she can hear me, I hope she can feel me…but I can't bring myself to say that I love Mimi…I can't do it…maybe if I keep repeating, if I keep going on…but I love Maureen. I will always love her, I have always loved her, and nothing will change that. I really wish that I could say the same for Mimi…I keep forgetting about the small issue of her dying…and so I press on, singing to the woman in the corner with her head in her hands, while looking my dying friend in the eyes, choked up over mistakes that I have made, filled with guilt that I can't fathom the seriousness that she is dying…instead I am focused on a completely healthy woman, who is not facing death, and will likely out live most, if not all, of the rest of us…I would give anything to rewind my life back to the night that I ran away, to hold her and soothe her instead of running out, accepting that I wasn't the only one of us with problems. If I could take back all of my harsh words and replace them with encouragement and love…_

"…When I looked into your eyes/Why does distance make us wise/You were the song all along…" _The love of my life…the end of this song is supposed to be joyful…supposed to bring her back to me…but as I face finality and finally feel the effects of loss and grief beginning to register in my mind, in my heart, I have to focus this on the woman who will not have another moment to make this up…won't have another day, save for a miracle. Regardless of my passion for Maureen, I can't have her feeling that I hate her as she goes…my jealousy over her affair with Benny was strictly and issue because I longed to have an affair with my beloved…but more than that, I wanted to leave Mimi behind and run away with Maureen…oh God…I can't believe I am thinking these things! Think! I have got to change the end of this song…what can I say?_

"…And before this song dies/I should tell you I should tell you/I have always loved you/You can see it in my eyes…" _God I hope she can't read the reason for my tears, but as the absence of feeling with regard to this tiny, shivering, dying girl is replaced by genuine sorrow that my friend is leaving me, that I couldn't have shown her more love, that I couldn't force myself to care, that I don't know how I can possibly reciprocate the love that she seems to have for me…sorrow for fucking up her life, my life and Maureen's life…none of us happy. I can feel Mimi exuding love as her breaths become more labored…_

"…Mimi!" _As silence fills the room, her breathing halted, her arm dropping down beside her on the side of the table, limp…her form lifeless, my sorrow overwhelms me, though it is difficult to tell whether I truly felt anything for her, whether that song represented emotion that I had felt even vaguely for her, and the tears continue to slide down my face, my friends move ever closer, Maureen rubs my shoulder, sorrow fills the room, it is somber, and I feel guilty that I am at least in a small way relieved at her passing, that my feeling of loss is nowhere near as great as grief felt by everyone else…or at least that is how it seems…but why is it that when my "girlfriends" pass, I think of Maureen? Was I simply using them to protect her as I tell myself? Pushing her away in order to preserve her life and happiness and potential…but I was also trying to protect myself from hurt…and I was scared at the intensity of my emotions…but why can't I love anyone else? Why don't they compare?_

As I lost myself in thought, I considered crossing her arms over her chest, but before I could get my feet to move, her hand moved…_how is that possible?_

**_AN-_** Please review! Nobody reviewed the last chapter...so please do! I would love to hear your thoughts!


	9. Chapter 9

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"…Thank God this moment's not the last!" _How is it possible that Mimi is still with us? She is such a fighter. I am so glad that Roger still has her…after April I never thought that he would love another woman. When Mimi came along, though I longed more than anything to be with him, I was glad at least that he had someone who made him happy. On some level, I hadn't realized that his feelings for her were so strong, although I suppose whenever somebody you love is dying, your feelings would be intensified…I mean, the rest of us were all distraught. Mimi is a great friend._ Joanne comes up to me, embracing me in apology for our latest round of fights, and Rogers tears continue as he holds Mimi close to him, and I can only imagine what is going through his head right now…his eyes clouded with emotion that I can't quite read as we celebrated the miracle that had befallen us. _Did he write that song for me? He couldn't have…could he? He always liked to talk about my eyes, he was so intrigued by them…I'm being ridiculous. Of course the song is about Mimi. But as I heard him begin to sing, I couldn't help but feel that somehow…I can't take this. But don't make a scene…can't make a scene._ I turned to leave, but as I stepped towards the door, forcing one foot to go after the other, I look back. _Great. Now what? I'll turn into a pillar of salt?_ Roger's eyes locked with mine, and immediately I felt guilty as his hurt overwhelmed me, and my body froze. I couldn't move, couldn't see for the tears in my eyes, and I collapsed into heap on the floor, sobbing for an unknown reason that I couldn't even begin to define. _So many things going through my mind…_I felt arms lock around me, lifting me off of the floor, vaguely heard a comforting murmur—Joanne. I couldn't breathe again, couldn't move, couldn't even focus enough to comprehend what Joanne was saying. _Roger…help me…need help…he has to help…but he has Mimi…but he knows how to help me…I love him…I need to tell him…I should tell him…_Joanne continued to try to comfort me to no avail…_dizzy…can't breathe…the spinning world gives way to darkness…_

When I awoke, my breathing and heartbeat once again normal, I had been put on the aluminum table that Mimi had initially been placed on. Mark was sitting beside me, and informed me that I had been out for several hours, and Joanne had gone to work, relinquishing caring duty to him. Collins, Roger and Mimi were sitting in a small clump on the floor, whispering. I couldn't make out what they were discussing, but it seemed pretty intense, and seemed to be upsetting Mimi…_uh oh._ She rose silently, and as she did, the light reflected in such a way that I could tell that she had been crying. She exited the loft, and we heard her door slam downstairs. Roger slumped over, and Collins tried to console him. I tried to stand, but my legs had other plans. Mark caught and steadied me, but the racket caused the two other men to realize that I was conscious once again, and they ran over, fussing over me.

"Are you okay?"

"What happened?" I rolled my eyes as the questioning proceeded.

"I'm _fine_. I was just tired. And a little traumatized. How are _you?_" I asked, addressing Roger seriously.

"What? Why? Oh…did you just see Mimi?" I continued trying to pierce him with my intent gaze, knowing that he knew exactly what I meant.

"Did you tell her about…um…_ahem_." He took the hint, and nodded, his eyes dropping as he muttered something beneath his breath. Mark looked very puzzled, about to interject, but Collins pulled him aside. He was the only one left who didn't know about her. I turned my focus back to Roger. "Oh, honey…_now?_"

"Shut up! I already feel like shit." I tried to embrace him, but he pushed me away roughly, with enough force to knock me to the ground. His strength surprised me—he had never hurt me physically before, which caused came as a shock to all of us, Collins rushing to my defense, Mark frozen in fear somewhere off to the side. Roger's eyes were crazed, and I cowered, scurrying back away from him, and Collins stood in front of Roger, trying to knock some sense into him, but Roger kept trying to come after me. _What the hell sparked this? And why all of this sudden hatred and anger towards me?_ I ran out of the loft on weak, wobbling legs, frightened and frantic, somehow in the process managing to miss a step and take a tumble, my head striking the harsh edge of cruel cement…I heard a door open, felt small, cold hands touching me, heard frantic screaming…

**AN- **Thanks for the comments. Keep them coming :) I'm glad to keep writing as long as _somebody_ gives me feedback. --wink--


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: **Okay, so I was sick today, and had nothing better to do than right. Thank you guys for your reviews! Keep them coming. I am especially interested in response to this chapter, because it was really hard to try to formulate. If you love, or more importantly, hate it, tell me so! If the latter, tell me how to fix it! You never know, I might agree :) Anyway, without further a due, here is the latest chapter!

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I didn't know what had come over me—nothing could explain my sudden, violent outburst. Nothing could make it okay. She should never forgive me. There is no excuse for physical violence, nothing that made it okay to be that similar to my father. It was unforgivable. I cursed myself for the stupidity of my actions as I heard her boots clatter away from the loft and down the cement stairs, not having meant to drive her away, glad that Collins had been there to prevent me from hurting her—and suddenly I heard a loud thud. _Oh shit…_Mimi's huge metal door screeched open, but that noise was nothing compared to Mimi's cry, which was when I knew for certain something was wrong. _Oh fuck…oh my God I hope she's okay._ Mark and Collins shot me nasty looks as panic, concern, and intense regret washed over my body—I couldn't move.

"Roger, move your fucking ass! This is all your fault! I know you hate her, but that's no excuse!" _Great. Just what I need—for Mark to be pissed at me. Not that he even understands the situation—he doesn't even know about Elsie. Is he really that ignorant to not know that I care about her? That she is my world…and moon, and stars…and all that I have ever known of true family. Somehow I think that if he knew it would make things worse. Surely I'd never be allowed in the same room as Elsie (or Maureen for that matter). Oh God…I hope she's not hurt to badly._ Suddenly, instead of being the straggler, I was the first of us down. _She looks so pathetic…there's so much blood…too much blood…how could this have happened?_ Her five foot four frame was sprawled over the cement in a hopelessly twisted position, Mimi already huddled over her body, sobbing.

"Oh God! Mark shut that fucking thing off!" He scurried down the last couple of stairs, not obliging me, quickly drawing in a sharp breath when he laid eyes on her maimed body, and I could tell that he was crying behind the lens. Collins followed behind him, stopping dead at the sight before him. "Maureen! Maureen, honey, can you hear me?" Mimi had stepped aside, the three of them stunned. "Somebody call 911!" At that, they all started to move, but Collins went to the phone in Mimi's apartment. _Why is he always the one calling?_ I had carefully rolled Maureen over, holding her, my hands bathed in her blood.

"I'm on hold!" _Oh my God…how is this happening? I thought that the thing with Mimi was enough drama, but then I had to fuck that up by telling her about Elsie—no day but today, you know? Then because I'm stupid I start swinging at the woman who is my life force? And she falls down the stairs trying to escape from me? What kind of a monster am I?_

"We have to get her to the hospital now! And someone has to call Joanne! Oh God…this is bad." I still hadn't moved from her side, holding her desperately. I hadn't noticed, but I was receiving awkward glances from Mark and Mimi because of my true fear and concern, which was somehow much stronger for Maureen than it had been for Mimi. The intensity of my own emotion and fear scared me, the sharp pain that seared throughout my entire body, felt like there were knives in my lungs, like I was dying…_she can't leave me…I need her…I was so stupid…I need her to know that I love her…I love her…I have never loved anyone else, not the way that I love her…I need her! Oh God, I need her. That can't be the last she ever sees of me…that's not right! It's not fair!_

"I got through! They're coming…I only hope it's not too late." He called out instructions for how to care for Mo until the paramedics arrived as the dispatcher gave them. Mimi had finally moved, going up to our loft to call Joanne. Eventually, the ambulance arrived, after we had managed to control the bleeding, which actually wasn't anywhere near as bad as I had thought, when I finally managed to calm down enough to be objective and helpful. She had been, fortunately, breathing when we found her, though unconscious. I got into the ambulance with her, and nobody objected, but I got the impression that after this was all over, I would be questioned about this. Just because the others knew about Elsie (except for Mark, who was still in the dark), didn't mean that they understood that our profound love for each other had never gone away. We hadn't told them, tried to hide it, deny it, but in this moment, nothing else mattered. I held her hand tightly as I sat there in the ambulance, scared to death. _Scared to death…_the thought made me shudder. I need her back.

About half way to the hospital, Maureen came to, and was clearly disoriented, trying to figure out where she was.

"Rog?" The sound of her voice, weak, scared and confused, was enough to make silent tears slide down my cheeks, and my voice crack when I tried to respond.

"Yeah baby?" She smiled softly.

"Since when do you call me that?" I gently stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes cautiously, certain that she didn't remember the way that I had tried to hurt her, or else she certainly wouldn't have trusted me so easily. She seemed suddenly tormented by a sharp pain, and I wished desperately that there were something that I could do. "What happened?"

"You fell down the stairs from the loft…" Her face screwed up a little, trying hard to remember, then suddenly, she withdrew her hand from mine, trembling.

"Hey…sweetie…" I tried to reach out and touch her, but she flinched.

"No, Roger…you don't get to do that! You just can't…just…" Her body was engulfed in sobs, and I longed to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. She wouldn't even look at me. I dropped my head into my hands, ashamed.

"Maureen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry…God, I don't know what…came over me. Please, I love you, damnit!" I winced as I slammed my fist into my thigh, a lot harder than I had intended to. She turned her head to look at me, and we arrived at the hospital as she was opening her mouth to say something, and there was a flurry of paramedics and we were rushing about her, taking her into the building quickly. I tried to keep up with them, but they pushed me aside, and I was left standing there, confused. _They said there was nothing seriously wrong with her…_A few minutes later, one of the nurses backtracked and led me to the waiting area closest to where they had taken her, telling me that they were just making sure that everything was okay, and they had to give her stitches, being that she had cracked her head open slightly, but she would likely be okay—she had seemed very responsive and alert. _Oh thank God!_ I let go of the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding, and collapsed onto one of the uncomfortable plastic bench-type things. A few minutes later, a med student and doctor emerged from the room, saying that she would be fine, although she was on pretty intense painkillers, so she probably wouldn't behave normally. _Ha. Clearly they don't know Maureen. Maybe she will be a little sane…_Most importantly though, they told me that I could go in to see her. _I hope she'll talk to me._ As I headed towards her room, I heard a commotion, and turned around to see the others running up to me.

"Roger, what the hell is going on here?" Joanne demanded of me.

"She had to get some stitches but she's going to be fine. They want to keep her over night because it is a head injury, so they want to make sure everything is in order." I quickly turned away from them and continued into the room. The others, even Joanne, seemed to understand that I wanted to be alone with her. I vaguely heard Mark muttering in puzzlement about what was going on as I closed the door. "Hey Maureen." She responded without even turning her head to face me, staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Go to Hell, Roger."

"I deserved that." I walked up closer to the bed, and stood on the side that she was facing, forcing her to look at me, and sat in the chair that was beside the bed.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Roger? Huh?" She still looked scared, but was trying to be hard, cold and detached. It didn't become her, but I could understand her anger.

"Mo, I know that I fucked up…just please…I love you." She blinked and turned away from me as her eyes filled with tears, trying to hide them from me. I gingerly reached out for her hand, barely touching it. Her hand twitched, but she didn't pull it away. Maureen had always been one for physical comfort and closeness. She loved to cuddle, hug…anything. I missed that most about her, even though her neediness had sometimes scared me. "I never wanted to hurt you—you have to know that. You are my everything, Maureen." She looked back at me, tears freely coursing down her face now.

"Then why did you do it Rog? You said you would never…you said you…how could you? Why? What did I do, Rog? What? You scared me. You hurt me. I just…wanted…"

"Shh…sweetie, it's okay." I had moved a little closer to her, stroking her hair. She moved closer, too, wrapping her arms around me, her chest heaving with emotion, tears soaking through my t-shirt.

"Just hold me…hold me…promise me…you won't ever do that…you won't do it again. I can't…handle…it…I'm…sorry…about…Mimi…"

"I know. It wasn't your fault, Mo. I felt guilty…that's why I came after you…that's why I told her…I love you…I can't live a lie, Mo…and you don't have to feel the same way…but…I just can't do it." Now I was crying too, holding her so close, so tight…never wanting to let her go. We were both mourning the unlucky circumstances in which we now found ourselves stuck.

As we sat there, holding on to one another for what seemed like forever, our mourning was disturbed by Mark screaming "WHAT!", which made us both laugh. I wiped her tears, the pleasant expression lingering on my face, and she smiled as well, giggling as I was wiping her tears and simultaneously crying, and she brought her hands up to my face to do the same. I aimed to kiss her cheek, but she moved and it somehow landed on her lips, and her eyes widened, as did mine, but she pulled me closer, neither of us wanting to let go. A couple of minutes later, flushed and confused, our mouths separated. My hands had roamed and found their place on her breasts; I had somehow ended up on top of her, her back arched to meet me, pelvis rocking forward, moaning softly…we stared at each other, wide-eyed.

"We shouldn't…I mean…you…"

"I know. I want…I have to talk to…"

"Joanne."

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"Joanne." _It hardly seems fair to Joanne…I mean, she hasn't done anything wrong, and I love her dearly…but…it's not the same. I miss him. I need him. I love him. I wish that I felt differently…but this just confirmed the fact that I was trying to deny—we both want each other. Collins was right. Again._ Roger rolled off of me, off the bed and headed for the door. "Hey, Rog?"

"Yeah babe?"

"Do you think it's unfair, that I did this to her?"

"Maybe. We fucked up really badly, didn't we? I feel like this is my fault…"

"Well, no…I mean…that's just life…everything that we do has repercussions…"

"It would be worse to keep stringing her along and pretending that everything is okay." And just like that, all of my hesitation dissolved as I realized that he was right, that we had both been fostering artificial relationships, fake love. _No day but today…I've got to make this right. For Roger. For Elsie. For Joanne. For Mimi. This cannot continue…we're living a lie—in denial. We have to learn to live. For all of Mimi's pain, I know that she understands it, she gets it. Joanne, on the other hand…she'll never understand. I don't know that she's ever really been passionate about anything…that's what drew her to me. But it can't work—it won't work._ Roger left the room after looking at me for a long moment, trying to get into my head and let Joanne in.

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"YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER?" _Oy vey…and I'm not even the Jewish one here…_

"Hi Mark. Yes." I couldn't help but laugh at his astonished face, his seeming inability to comprehend.

"Why didn't…" He looked at me accusingly, but I cut him off, putting my hands up in front of me.

"Don't look at me! I didn't even know until last year!" Then Mimi added,

"I didn't even know until today! And Rog…do whatever you have to do. I don't blame you. I'm not thrilled, but…hey, you gotta live how you gotta live."

"Are we cool?" She looked at me, contemplating.

"We'll get there, Rog." Mark was gaping at me now.

"Mark, you are not a codfish." He looked confused.

"But…Maureen…argh." He rubbed his head, as if the recent happenings were giving him a headache.

"Chill Mark, it's okay."

"But I thought you hated her!" I rolled my eyes at him.

"Maybe I should go into theatre, then. Get over it, dude." He sighed, and retreated to a chair in a corner of the room beside a plant, fiddling with his camera, muttering to himself.

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"But darling, do you two really feel that you need to get back together with him?" _I knew that she wouldn't understand. I hate breaking her heart like this, but if Roger could give up Mimi, then there is no reason why I, the queen of dumping the sweet and innocent, should have no problem with it. But Rog will die…Joanne isn't sick…but that's superficial. And he might not die for a long time…I hope. "Forget regret or life is yours to miss."_

"Pookie—Joanne, I'm really sorry…and I really do love you…but I just…you have to understand, I was being stupid. I shouldn't have done this to you, dragged you along all this time. Friends?" She was crying, but containing herself very well compared to the time that she freaked out at our commitment ceremony because I was flirting with some stupid girl…although, I suppose this is more serious, I mean…I'm not being unfaithful, I'm just plain ending it. I was trying to be optimistic, not wanting to fall to pieces.

"Maureen, I don't think that I can do that. We can be civil, and I promise I will try. I can't cut this 'family' out of my life entirely—I have no one else. No please excuse me while I remove your things from my apartment." With that, the flow of tears metamorphosed into cold, hard anger as she breezed out of the room, muttering something like "tango to Hell" under her breath. I let myself fall back on the bed, bawling, turning over to bury my face in the pillow. I felt a large hand settle on my side.

"Collins, I screwed up, didn't I?" I turned so that I could look at him as I asked this question, my voice cracking.

"Mo…you just have to stand by your convictions. You need Roger, right? You love him? More than Joanne?" I nodded, knowing I had done what I had to do given the circumstances.

"I wish that it didn't hurt so much." He hugged me warmly, in that almost fatherly way.

"I know baby girl. But you'll survive. You will thrive, even. And now you can bring Elsie back into your life, really get to know and love her."

"I miss my baby…" I sighed, looking him over. "I scared you, didn't I? Look at you, you're a wreck!" He chuckled.

"You know Maureen, no matter how many times I've almost lost you, it gets scarier every time." His eyes were filled with tears, and I clung to him like a small child, my own tears saturating his shirt.

"I'm sorry that I'm so horrible Collins…I honestly don't know how you can stand me. You have been so great to me…" He pulled me in closer to his chest.

"Oh, Mo…I love you! Please, don't try anything like this again. You gotta stop doing this to me—my poor heart can't take any more of this!" Outwardly he laughed, but I knew that on the inside he meant it. There was a soft, hesitant knock on the door, and Collins released me.

"It's me, Mark." I laughed. _Good old Mark…such a cutie pie._

"Come in, honey." He came in, still hiding behind that camera of his, looking a little traumatized. "Mark, did you just find out about Elsie?" He nodded, looking very much like a small, innocent child who had somehow been corrupted. _Like Benji used to…I wish I could make things right with him…_ "Aww, come here." I patted the spot on the bed where Collins, who had now risen to leave, had been sitting. Collins nodded to me and departed.

"Why am I always the last be told everything," he whined, "why didn't you tell me?" I sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Marky. I know that you're upset, and I am very sorry. It was a mistake to wait as long as I did to tell Roger, and everyone else for that matter. Can we get past this now? I have to ask you something." He nodded, and I proceeded cautiously. "Okay, well, as you probably know, Roger and I are getting back together," at first he looked a little startled, but nodded slowly, "and I need somewhere to live. And Elsie does to. So, what I really need to know, is can we move into the loft with you and Rog?" _Please, please let this make him feel better. I haven't even asked Roger yet…please, please Marky say yes…_He nodded hesitantly, then more vigorously.

"Yes, Maureen. It would be really great if you moved into the loft. Not to sound like I don't love _you_, but we do kind of need some help with expenses…I mean, with Benny acting so strangely all the time," I smacked him in the back of the head playfully, and he added, "but, on a more personal level, it would be good for Roger, and you know that I would do anything for you…" He was rambling again, but I cut him off out of pure excitement, squeezing him tightly, then kissing him. "You know, Mo, it might be good if you…"

"Don't do that anymore? Yeah. Okay." We giggled, just sitting with each other, talking. I told him about her, and a lot of little stories that I hadn't gotten to tell him before, and it just felt right.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note:** Sorry the update took so long. Saw RENT on Saturday and got the DVD yesterday...so I suppose you could say I've been doing research...anyway, I don't know how good this is...so leave lots of feedback! Even if you hate it!

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When Mark finally came out of the room, he looked much happier, though still a little bit confused, and I wondered what exactly she had done to him. He came over to me and told me that she wanted to see me, and I was even more confused. _What on Earth could she possibly be thinking up now? Bad Roger—trust her. She loves you._ I walked into her room hesitantly, not only out of nervousness, but also because of what had happened the last time I went in there. _I wonder if it's against the rules to have sex in a hospital bed? It might make me a little less on edge…I hate this place. I have had so many bad experiences, traumatizing experiences in hospitals…although I know that Maureen is less comfortable with them than I am…especially after that night…although after Angel, I suppose none of us wanted to set foot in one again…_She scooted over on the bed, indicating that she wanted me to lie beside her. I did so, propping myself up with my elbow so that I could look at her. She mirrored me.

"Hey Rog! Guess what? Elsie and I are moving in with you guys! Isn't that awesome?" I stared in shock, not believing what I was hearing. _This is what we have always wanted…isn't it?_ Still, I couldn't help a wave of concern from washing over my body, though I did my best to conceal it from her. I didn't even know why I should be worried or uncomfortable…this is the dream that I most wanted to come true in my lifetime, that I never expected would become a reality.

"That is really great!" I replied, with all the enthusiasm that I could muster, which apparently wasn't much, since she managed to see right through it.

"Rog…what's wrong? I mean…I thought that you--" I cut her off by putting a hand over her mouth, not wanting her to get the wrong impression. Her eyes had begun to tear up- she looked wounded, and it felt as though a knife had pierced my heart. _But what do I really think? Shut up, Roger, you know this is what you want! But what if I fuck up? Or what if I die? What if they both end up hating me forever? Or worse, what if they love me? And I devastate them?_

"Nothing's wrong, babe. I'm just scared." She pouted, and my heart broke even further as her face contorted and a horrifying noise resulting from her attempt not to cry coupled with some sort of immense pain was emitted from her pathetic looking figure, and my first instinct was to hold her tightly, try to ease her pain. She attempted to push me away, but I wouldn't let her, and eventually she just allowed her emotion to come freely. I was honestly beyond confused by this sudden outburst, afraid that I had said something wrong to trigger this. _Of course you did, you idiot. You should be happy, asshole. What the fuck is wrong with you?_ "Mo…I'm sorry. It's not that I don't love you…"

"I know, Rog…it's just…I'm scared too…that you're going to leave me…and I won't be able to do anything about it…it's just…not fair…I keep thinking that if I had been somehow better…if I had been more…if I could have saved you from this…it…I…we…"

"Shh…baby, it's not your fault! I was the asshole who left, remember? Maureen, look at me. It's not your fault. There wasn't anything that you could have done. Now, I am scared to death that I am going to hurt you…I don't want to do that. But I want this family more than anything; I want you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else in my entire life, and you are my world. I would sacrifice anything for you, and for Elsie, even if it meant not being with you. The question is, then, what do you want?" She stared at me looking like a small child, confused, hurt, but so much in shock from what I had said that the tears had stopped coming. I cupped her face in my hand, running my thumb over her cheekbone.

"Obviously I don't want you to leave! I need you too much for it to be any other way." The sheer need and desperation in her voice betrayed her attempt to regain composure, so I pulled her closer to me. She pressed her lips against mine with the same need and desperation that had been in her voice; overtaken by an intense urgency, hunger. At first I was startled, but the familiarity of the situation was something that I had missed. Her passion for life had always been what had drawn me to her, her neediness what exhilarated me. She made me feel that I was worth something because she needed me so much, and I knew that she truly cared for me, even when she hated herself, and I knew that I felt the same way. The intensity of our caring for one another was more than either of us had ever encountered, given our damaged family situations. I responded to her sudden sexual impulse, reassuring her that I loved her more than life itself, that I would feel the same way about our daughter, who was the result of this passion. My hands roamed her body, feeling every curve, every part of her that I hadn't been able to touch in such a long time. "Hey Rog…what're we going to do about this?"

"Hmm? Oh…sex?" I located a condom with relative ease, having been using them when I was with Mimi so that she wouldn't get pregnant (since not only did I not love her, but additionally childbirth would likely kill her), though of course, we hadn't been together in a while, but afterwards I had had a few infidelities, if you could call them that, since I wasn't technically with Mimi. But I didn't want to deal with giving the disease to anyone else. Maureen pouted, as if truly realizing the implications of this disease. _At least we already have a child? But…it's sad that we can't again…not that she could have with Joanne either, or that we necessarily would have, Lord knows we don't have the cash, but still…you don't think about wanting something until you know that you can't have it…_I continued moving with her, feeling the passion between us mount, the longing that we had so long suppressed out of necessity.

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Sex in the hospital was by far one of the most precarious situations that I have ever been in, but the depth of feelings—the pain, joy and relief that we both felt—translated well into sexual passion, and it felt right. Besides, we both welcomed danger heartily. Fortunately, nobody walked in on us. I couldn't help but feel utterly distraught when I truly realized the implications of his being HIV positive on our future potential, and couldn't help but be truly grateful that I had kept Elsie, that I hadn't aborted the pregnancy, aside from the fact that I don't agree with abortion, and additionally, she was my little reminder of Roger, and the love that we had shared. I couldn't have possibly killed the evidence of the passion that we had. It would have meant accepting defeat- and that is not something that I do. _If I had held onto him more tightly, if I could have been everything he needed to be, if I hadn't been such a mess…he wouldn't be sick. If I had just waited for him to take me home…if I had been there for him instead of passed out and bleeding to listen to his problems, to ease his suffering…April never would've happened. _Despite all of his reassurance, I couldn't help but feel this oppressive guilt bearing down on me, but I let myself drown in my longing and relief instead of dwelling, the urgency that mounted and made me feel as though he was the only other thing in the world…_there's only us, there's only this, forget regret…_

"Hey Mo?"

"Yeah Rog?"

"This is what you really want, right?"

"Of course, are you crazy? This is right."

"Then I want it too." He kissed me softly, and I knew that, at least for now, everything was as it should be.

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"You sure you want to do this?" Roger asked, looking deep into my eyes, trying desperately to find a clue as to how I felt. Nervousness was building in my stomach, and I couldn't get my feet to move. Ever since that day at the hospital, when we had gotten back together, I had felt this sense of impending doom regarding Roger's health, but it hadn't occurred to me that my grandmother's was more urgent. After the hospital had released me, I returned to the loft with the boys, where we found my stuff and a note in the doorway (Mark had lent Joanne the key). At first glance, we had all expected that the note was something regarding my relationship with Joanne, but on closer inspection, I found that it revealed only that my grandmother had died—last night, the night that I fell down the stairs, the night when Mimi almost died, the night when my life simultaneously went to heaven and hell. My aunt was out of town on business when it happened, as the note said. Apparently my parents had called. I was glad not to have been there when they did, though I was uncertain about what a pissed off and hurt Joanne might have said to them. The one thing that the letter revealed that I really didn't want to have to face, was that my daughter was now under the care of my parents, who wanted me to retrieve her as soon as possible.

When we arrived in Hicksville, my parents' cars were nowhere to be found, and I knew that Ben would likely be the one watching Elsie—my parents never would have taken her to work or left her alone. I honestly didn't know what to expect my brother to be like, all I knew was that he was sixteen and, according to Elsie and aunt Suz, a troublemaker. Plus, he hates my guts. It wasn't so much that I was afraid of him as that I was afraid of what he would think of me, not only for having left, and everything else that I had ever done, him knowing now that Elsie was mine (he was only eight at the time, and as far as I could tell, her never caught on). I wanted desperately to have a relationship with him, hoped that he now understood why I hated Mom and Dad so much…still hoping that for all of my efforts he could find it in his heart to love me.

"Maureen? You in there?"

"Yeah. Let's do this. Let's go get our daughter." We walked to the door, my pulse racing, as I clutched Roger's hand with a force rivaling the time at the hospital, but otherwise hoping to exude confidence. As I got closer to the house, I could hear some awful rock music flowing out of the house. I knocked on the door, and got no response, so I knocked harder. I heard a small voice asking who I was. "Sweetie, it's mommy and daddy. Can you open the door?" I heard the music cease as the door swung open, and heavy footsteps coming down the stairs as the little girl jumped up into my arms.

"Elsie, who--" Ben's voice cut off as he came nearer and saw me holding her, Roger off behind me. He scowled at me, and I held my baby closer to me, "Oh, well if it isn't the cheap-ass big city dyke whore. Who've you got in tow? Oh, druggie-boy from next door. Get the fuck out of here." I couldn't have possibly prepared myself for this, nor could I handle the abuse. Elsie was crying, not knowing what to make of the events that were taking place, so I put her down softly and told her to go get her things. "Where do you think you're taking her?"

"She's my fucking daughter, Benjamin. OUR daughter."

"Suddenly you want her back? What does your lesbian lover think? Or did she leave you too? And how exactly are you going to raise her? To be a stripper? You don't have the cash. And even if you do, it's probably from fucking random strangers. You probably spend it all on booze and drugs. You'll probably end up killing her. But that will be an accident, won't it? You'll be too out of it to notice." The anger in his voice surprised me, and with every word he said I felt irreparably wounded, not even noticing the tears streaming out of my eyes. Roger finally stepped in, in my defense.

"You think you've got it all figured out, don't you? But who the fuck are you to judge her? You don't know the half of it! And she sacrificed the better part of her childhood to protect you, you ungrateful little bastard. Leave her the fuck alone!" I saw Roger's body tensed, and hoped to God that he wouldn't go after Benj, though he truly deserved a good beating.

"Oh, you're one to talk, you walked out on her! You have no right to tell me what to think—you didn't even want to be with her, the worthless bitch!" I had never been insulted so harshly before. Sure, people had said awful things about me, but I had invested so much in Ben, always believed in him, loved him more than anyone else except Roger, and here he was, spewing some of the most hateful things I had ever heard in my life. _I can't believe this is happening…why is he so mad at me? Why can't he love me?_ I knew the truth—after Roger left, I hadn't been able to take care of him because I was so lost in my own pain, and I left rather than dealing with it. Roger didn't know of all that had happened after he had walked out on me. Well, he knew, but he hadn't actually been there to witness the decline as Benji had. Poor little boy probably didn't understand what was going on. These attacks were probably just vulgarities inserted into my parents' discussions of me coupled with his hurt. I decided to take matters into my own hands. Also, Roger looked like he was about to go at him, and given his recent track record, I needed to get him out of there.

"Roger, honey, would you go help Elsie with her things?" He looked at me skeptically, but I urged him on, and reluctantly he went. I glared at my brother—if I could still call him that. "What the fuck was that? What the fuck do you want from me?"

"Mo, are you fucking crying? What is wrong with you? And why do you care what I think? It's not like you even call. I don't hear anything from you in eight years and all of a sudden you have a daughter? What am I supposed to think?"

"I at least thought that you knew that I loved you…"

"You really proved that by leaving after living completely oblivious to the world…which almost got me killed on various occasions!"

"I was stupid."

"You were selfish."

"I was in pain. You wouldn't have understood—heck, you still probably wouldn't understand. You can't possibly know what it was like…if you do, I truly failed you. Can't you understand that? I only wanted you to have what I didn't. I didn't want you to have to suffer like I did. So I am sorry that I'm not perfect, that I made bad decisions. But you don't know me…neither does Mom or Dad. I'm okay with that."

"You're right. I don't understand. When I was really little, you were there. Things were good. I got a little older, and I all I heard was you cursing Mom out, bitching about how Dad was an ass. And you would disappear. Start fires. Stupid neglectful things. Then, one day, you were gone. Being the naïve child that I was, I thought it was because I was being bad that you didn't love me anymore. That if I tried harder, you would love me again. It seemed the harder I tried, the more you hated me. I didn't know why. But then I realized it wasn't me. It was you. Everything was always about you."

"If you weren't old enough to understand, where did you get this charming ideas from? Mom and Dad? Ha. They don't know anything about me. They never cared to. That's what I tried to show you. But you were so loyal to them. Well, I hope it had paid off. I hope you're happy. I hope you're happy now."

"Well how the fuck else am I supposed to know anything about you?" So that was it—the simple truth. He felt abandoned. I was selfish. But more than anything, he missed me. He didn't understand, and I never cared enough to make him understand, reassure him. I left him here with the enemy, and he had no choice but to believe what they told him. When he was younger and had been so enamored with Mommy, it was simply because he was a little boy. I probably felt similarly until I was so fed up with Mommy and Daddy's lack of caring that I couldn't even see them as worthy of kindness. I reached out to tough his shoulder, but he shoved me back towards the wall. I stumbled backwards, but didn't fall, although I did sort of bump my head on the wall behind me—right where my stitches were. It hurt almost as much as after the initial impact with the stairs—a sort of blinding, white-hot pain. I slid down against the wall, doubled over in pain, and a look of sheer terror crossed Ben's face. "Oh God…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to—are you okay?"

"Peachy. I just got stitches there. You couldn't have known."

"What happened?"

"I fell down the stairs."

"On your head?"

"Well, not only on my head, obviously, but yeah it hit the edge of the steps. Concussion, bleeding. I was unconscious. Not a pretty sight, I can assure you." _Oh God I hope he doesn't ask how it happened…that would be really bad. It definitely wouldn't help his opinion of me at all…_He came over and extended his hand to me, helping me up off the floor. "Look, Ben, I know that you are pissed at me. And you should be. But can you please give me a chance?"

"How can I give you a chance if I never see you?"

"I know…I just can't stand to be around here…around them."

"At least you don't have to live here! Half of the time I forget that they even exist, the other half they forget I exist!"

"I know how awful it is…I wish there was something that I could do. I mean…you can always visit…" He looked at me with hopeful eyes, and I wished that I could just take him with me—I _had_ essentially raised him from the very beginning, even being the naïve ten year old that I had been. Mom and Dad would never approve of it. Although, there might be a way that I could spin it…but not right now…I've got enough on my plate right now. Roger returned, and I gave Ben an apologetic look before scooping up Elsie and heading out the door.

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Maureen was uncharacteristically quiet as I drove back to the loft. I kept trying to start conversations every now and again, which is very uncharacteristic for me…first about her brother because I was curious, but then about anything because I was concerned…and she wasn't able to hold her focus for long enough to comprehend what I was asking her. Elsie seemed a little bit uncomfortable, as if sensing her mother's discomfort. _This is not normal behavior for Maureen…usually she'd be chatting about anything and everything under the sun, particularly things that you didn't really care to hear about in the first place, almost drunkenly, even if she wasn't drunk. Granted, she's been going through a lot, but even through all of that most of the time she put on her happy face…not that I wasn't concerned about her suppression of emotion, but…this is really bizarre._ I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and setting her off, I didn't want to cause a meltdown, so I tried to hide my concern, continuously checking on Elsie in the rearview mirror so that I would have something other than Mo to concentrate on. _I wonder why Mark thought I hated her…I mean, granted, we did launch some pretty nasty comments at each other, and there was malicious intent in them, however we did get along when we weren't fighting…I was always concerned about her, but I guess I did a good job of hiding my feeling from him. Maybe it was just because he was dating her, and then she dumped him…and he never got over her. I didn't want to hurt him. Or maybe I just didn't want to think about her because I thought that I could never have her, and to share concern would be to draw her deeper into my heart, which would only lead to my undoing. So much regret from what I had done was haunting me…I couldn't escape it…even now I can't escape. Nothing will make everything all right again…nothing will ever be okay. But I have to focus on the future…what I can do for my daughter, what I can do to make things better with Mo…_No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep my mind off of her, couldn't stop worrying about what Benji had said to her…or more importantly, worrying about the thought that could potentially be running through her head…the destructive ones which so often led to her bad judgment calls…the blood, the drugs, sex, alcohol…things that led to her being abused…raped. But that won't happen now. I can be there for her. I can protect her from herself…somehow…_if only I could get into her head…_

When we arrived at the loft, Elsie was fast asleep, and Maureen was more lost in her thoughts than ever, and completely silent. She hadn't even moved, as far as I could tell, since we got in the car. I reached out to touch her shoulder, but she flinched, moving away automatically, then shook her head, as though coming back to reality. Then she blinked at me a couple times, flashed her killer smile, and got up, cheerfully chattering to wake Elsie up, telling her about anything and everything that popped into her head. She lifted the still sleepy child carefully, lovingly. _This maternal side of Maureen doesn't show itself regularly enough. I wonder how well she'll do with all this responsibility…I wonder whether she is truly done with the flirting and cheating…don't think like that! Of course she's done—she really loves you._ I grabbed Elsie's things, locked the car (Joanne's, which she had graciously let us borrow in an effort to remain close to Maureen, I assumed…which was still surprising, considering the way she had stormed out of the apartment and left Maureen's stuff…), and headed up to the apartment. Maureen put Elsie to bed in the room that Maureen had inhabited before moving into Mark's room, before Joanne, when she first moved in. The room still had various items in it—props from performances and protests, some pictures and clothes that had been long forgotten about. The bed was covered with, in typical Maureen fashion, red and purple satin pillows shaped like hearts, a cow-printed quilt and red sheets. The cow-shaped ring box that I had given her all those years ago sat prominently next to a picture of the two of us when we were very young…probably about eight years old, before all of the drama of popularity that middle school and high school brought with them. Of course, the ring had never left her finger. _My open-ended proposal. She must really have loved me all along…_She didn't say anything really for the rest of the night, just sat there looking completely spaced out, her knees drawn up to her chest on the couch. I tried to get her to eat something at around eight, and she said she wasn't hungry and went to bed shortly thereafter, which didn't rest well with me. Maureen had never been able to fall asleep until at least eleven for as far back as I could remember. _What could possibly be going on with her?_ I let it slide, but made a mental note to confront her the next morning. I picked up my Fender and attempted to play Musetta's Waltz, but failed to find the correct pitch in the middle, so I absently began strumming the song that I had written for her in high school. I didn't even recognize it until I began to sing…_Outspoken…easily broken…_


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** Wow. Sorry about the really delayed update. I hope you like this chapter! The amount of feedback I got on the last chapter was really depressing. Let's see if we can't do something about that this time, shall we? PLEASE review this. I need to know what you think of this story!

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When I awoke the next morning, I was in my old bed at the loft, the one that I had loved so dearly, and even sort of missed when I had lived with Joanne. Despite the fact that the loft rarely if ever had heat when I had lived here before, and it was a despicable mess at all times, I had loved it. I thought it was far more reflective of my personality than Joanne's rich, stuffy apartment. I looked at my little girl, or the top of her head, rather, being that she had snuggled into me, which was something that she had definitely gotten from me. After lingering in the bed for a few moments, relishing the contact between her small body and my own, I slid out of the bed, careful not to wake her. I glanced at my watch—it was only five in the morning. I couldn't imagine why on Earth I would be awake so early, but then I remembered my early bedtime the night before. I hadn't thought that I had ever been tired when I had retired to my room the previous night, but I just hadn't been in the mood to be social, which was highly unusual for me, however, I had fallen asleep almost immediately. _I guess going back home just brought back a lot of memories, opened up a lot of old wounds, especially talking to Benj again…I wish that I could do something for him…my parents will never understand him, never love him the way that I do…but I am not prepared to be responsible for him, at least not yet. I wish Aunt Suz would take care of him, but she's so busy…and he _is_ sixteen years old and by now capable of taking care of himself, I suppose…but that doesn't make it any better. At least in a couple of years he will be free from them. I wish that I could make him understand why I am the way that I am. I should invite him out here for a couple of days…like a weekend or something. After everything settles down, that is. I still can't believe all of the things that he said to me…I had expected him to be angry with me—certainly he has every right to be—but I hadn't expected him to speak to foully, using such horrendous vocabulary. It was just weird to see him so grown up, I suppose. It still feels like he is my child, whom I abandoned, though certainly he is not literally. But I spent more time with him than anybody else, I spent so much time looking out for him. It must have been so hard on him when I moved away, or even before that when I was distraught over Roger to pay attention to anything._

"Mommy?" The little girl was sitting on the bed. I looked up at her from my spot beside the grime-covered window, where I was curled up tightly in a ball, looking wistfully out of the window, completely lost in thought. I turned to face her and opened my arms towards her.

"Come here, sweetie." The little girl scurried over to me, and I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly, taking in the moment, committing its seeming perfection to memory—the scent of her hair, the feel of her warm, small body pressed against mine, the feeling of pure trust and admiration that radiated from her tiny frame.

"What were you thinking about? You looked really sad." I set her down next to me on the ledge beside the window, were I was perched, and looked into her eyes, slightly shocked by her observant nature.

"Oh, honey…it was just hard for me to go home and see my brother. He's very mad at me because I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger."

"Was I a mistake?" I blinked, astonished.

"No, Els, you were not a mistake. Having you was the only thing in my life that I have never regretted, not for a minute. I shouldn't made you live with Aunt Suzy, though. That was a mistake. But before you were even around, I did some very bad things that put your Uncle Ben in danger. Grandma and Grandpa were never around, you see…so I had to do things all by myself…well, I mean, your daddy and I were always best friends, so he would help me out, but my point is…I was too young to be responsible. And then your daddy broke my heart because he went away, and I was very sad for a very long time."

"Why did he go away? That's dumb."

"He was scared."

"What was he scared of?"

"He was afraid that I was going to hurt him. I was very sad a lot of the time, and I didn't know how to make myself feel better again. He was worried that…"

"That you were going to do something bad…commit suicide?" My jaw dropped, and my throat tightened.

"Sweetie…do you know what that means? Where did you hear that?" She looked completely petrified that she had said something wrong, so I pulled her onto my lap. "Elsie, it's okay. Did you learn that from Uncle Ben?" She nodded meekly. "Do you know what it means?" She shook her head. I was conflicted, not wanting to tell her, but at the same time, not wanting her to find out from someone else. It was probably better if I just told her everything that I had been through. That seemed a much better way, to me, of protecting her than leaving her in the dark to hear speculations from everyone else. I sighed deeply and put her back down so that I could see her face when I told her. "Okay. This is probably not going to be easy to hear for you, but I feel like you should know. It's better if I just tell you. Your daddy was afraid that I was going to kill myself." She looked confused and uneasy.

"Why would you want to do that?" I looked at her with sad eyes.

"You see, honey, I was…having a really hard time. It was hard for me to manage all of my schoolwork and taking care of your uncle…and I didn't have any friend except for your daddy…and these two men did something really bad to me. I didn't know how to deal with it. Someday, baby, you will understand what I mean. I pray to God that you won't have to go through the same things that I had to, I hope that nothing that awful ever happens to you, but someday something really bad will happen—maybe somebody you love will die, or something…but it will feel like everything is wrong. I hope that you never, ever want to die, I hope that you will know how to feel sad and move on with your life, and deal with your pain. But sometimes…nothing feels right. I kept hurting myself…and your daddy always had to be there to take care of me, and make sure that I was okay, but he was having problems too. I was too upset to pay attention to him, and he was scared that one day he wouldn't be there to save me. He didn't know what else to do, and his parents were always fighting…so he left." I looked at her cautiously, trying to sense how she was taking this, and whether or not she was understanding what I was trying to say. It was evident that she was thinking very hard about this, trying to understand. I could tell that she was trying to formulate her next question, and I could also see that she was trying to hold back tears. "Elsie, baby…I don't want you ever to be afraid to cry. It's a good thing. If you don't feel sad or bad or confused sometimes, it will all build up until one day, everything sad and bad that you kept inside of you will just…come out and you won't be able to deal with it." She nodded, allowing her tears to flow freely. I held her tightly.

"Mommy did you make those cuts yourself?" _I forgot that she saw those…_I couldn't bring myself to speak, so instead I merely nodded. "You really love daddy, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I couldn't understand why he left me for a very long time, and I couldn't forgive him. That's why we weren't together." She nodded. I hugged her once again before telling her to go brush her teeth. She obeyed, hopping off of the ledge and scurrying off towards the bathroom, leaving the door open. I dropped my head into my hands. _What did I do that for? She probably doesn't understand. She's so young…but she's so perceptive, too. I hope that I haven't traumatized her or scarred her for life of something…that would be the last thing that I would ever want to do. I can't believe that I was such a mess…that I still am. Telling her all of this has only served to make me more ashamed of what I have done. I suppose motherhood is like that…not feeling like you are good enough for your child. But what if I'm really not? What if I can't do this? What if I just mess up my kid? I mean, I used to think that as long as you loved your child, that would be enough…but I am starting to doubt the power of love. I don't believe that all parents of fucked up children didn't love them…or maybe that's just my naïveté. I hope we'll be okay…we have to be._ Roger knocked lightly on my door, and I looked up to see him standing in my doorway.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" He spoke softly as he crossed the room, sitting down where Elsie had been a few minutes before. I shrugged and addressed my chipped nail polish, picking at it. "Maureen…what's wrong? It's not like you to be like this. I know something's bothering you." I really didn't want to talk to him, though I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. I looked out the window at the gloomy city, which was shrouded in a heavy fog. He reached out a hand and cupped the side of my face, tilting it upward so that I had no choice but to look into his eyes.

"I don't know, Rog. I just feel…inadequate, I guess."

"I don't think that's it. You've been like this ever since we left your parents' house. Does it have something to do with your brother?" I sighed.

"I…feel like I'm letting him down. It's not right that I abandoned him. Everything that he said about me was more or less accurate, and that hurts. I just…I feel so guilty for everything that has happened to him…that if I had been more I could have…"

"You have got to stop beating yourself up! Not everything that happens is a result of your negligence. There is no way to prove that if you hadn't have left that his life would have been any better. He didn't appreciate your presence."

"Even so…he was my responsibility." _Why doesn't Roger understand? I let my brother down. It was my fault. It was also partly my fault for his contracting AIDS…if only I hadn't driven him away…_

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_I can't believe that she has so little faith in herself. I can't believe that she still continues to blame herself for everything that happens to everyone. I know that she was a little distracted when she was supposed to take care of Benji, and it certainly couldn't have been easy for him when she got all fucked up when I left, but that was more my fault than it was hers. I don't know how to get her out of her head. I need to make her loosen up a bit, and stop dwelling on the past and what could have been._

"He wasn't entirely your responsibility. He wasn't your son. You were too young and naïve to know any better. You did the best that you could. It isn't your fault that I was a jackass." She shrugged again, turning to face the window, tracing her finger through the grime that had been on the window for as long as I could remember…probably ever since we had moved in. None of us had ever been the type of people to clean, least of all Mo and I. I placed a hand on her shoulder, and she turned her face towards me briefly, a pained expression on her face. "That's not all, is it?"

"Oh…I don't know…it was just so painful to be back in that house…and remember what it was like to live there…and all the hatred and insults that Benj threw at me showed me what I failure I was. I vowed that I would protect him, that I would make things okay for him. But I didn't. I always said that I was going to make things better for him than they were for me. I failed."

"You can't remake the past. There's no point to dwelling on it." Elsie shuffled back into the room, and when she saw me, she started bawling, and ran into Maureen's arms. I looked at the two of them, completely puzzled. Maureen tried to mouth something to me, but I couldn't make out what she was trying to say, so I shrugged and walked out of the room, calling back to tell her that she should eat something, and Elsie should too. I wasn't so concerned about the little girl's eating habits as I was Maureen's. When I told her to eat something, she glared at me, and I shot her a pleading look, which was not something that I often did. She smiled, recognizing that I was attempting her signature pout, and whispered something to Elsie, who came running over to me and hugged my waist. The girl was remarkably small for an eight-year-old, looking more like she was five or six. It also struck me that her speech patterns when speaking to me were pretty mature, but when she spoke to Maureen she seemed much younger…like a four year old. _Maybe she just remembers things being like that when they lived together…although the way that Maureen addresses her, you wouldn't expect her to be more than four…maybe they just need time to adjust to the differences._ I picked her up and asked her what was wrong. She relayed to me everything that Maureen had told her, and I was a little shocked at this revelation. I poured her a bowl of Cap'n Crunch, and went back to Maureen, who hadn't moved from the window. "Mo…please eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Come on, Maureen." She seemed to ignore me and went into the bathroom. I heard the water start running, and though I was concerned, it was evident that she wanted to be alone, so I let it slide. I didn't know what else to say to her. I hadn't ever seen her like this before, and was quite frankly petrified, considering that I had seen her at her worst, and she had never reacted like this to anything before. I could only be left to wonder what was bothering her, and if something else had happened that she wasn't telling me about. I didn't know whether it was the past or the future haunting her, or maybe a combination of both, but I got the impression that something that Benji had said had really shaken her. I couldn't say that I didn't feel completely overwhelmed, but it seemed quite obvious to me that she needed me much more than I needed her. _So this is what it is going to be like…just like old times. I need to communicate with her more clearly—this time we need to use each other for support. We need to be honest and trusting of one another. I should discuss this with her…we can't stand to repeat the past…I don't think either of us could handle going through it again, and we especially need to make it work this time for Elsie. We both want so badly for her to have what we were both deprived of—a childhood, free from adult concerns. Which would require that both of us work out our issues with one another so that she won't have to worry about us. It should be that we are worrying about her. I know that both Maureen and I are completely petrified that we are going to fuck up, but it can't get any worse than what we had to face as children. Out true and profound love for each other and our daughter is going to make this family work. I am going to make sure of that…it's what Angel wanted. Hell, it's what we have been longing for…maybe she just can't believe that dreams can really come true. Maybe she's just scared because she had dreamt about a Utopian version of this reality, fantasizing because she though that it would never come true…I have to make sure that she's okay…we have to get this out in the open. She needs to be open and honest so I can help her through this…_


	13. Chapter 13

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I turned on the water, filling the tub, though mostly turning it on because I wanted the sound of running water to obscure the sound of my crying, and to tell Roger that I wanted to be alone. I stood there, staring at myself in the mirror. _What have I become? What had happened to me? I never realized how much of a failure I was in every aspect in my life, how much I have lost sight of everything that mattered? How could I have failed Benji so much? And why do I keep blaming everything on Roger? Surely some of the fault is mine. So many people have gotten hurt…Mimi, Joanne, Roger, Ben, Elsie, Mark, Collins…I hurt everyone that I come in contact with. I know that they love me, or at least most of them do, at least in some small way. I think now I can understand why Roger ran away…he didn't want to keep hurting me, and it must have been so painful to see me struggling, hurting myself and not being able to do anything about it._ The water in the tub had risen to a level that satisfied me, so I stripped off my clothes, sliding into the relatively hot water. The loft never had great water heat, but this would suffice. At least I wouldn't freeze. I looked down at the scars on my wrists, and the ones between my thighs, on my chest and stomach…the only new ones on my arms. _I'm a mess. What the hell was I thinking doing this? I'm hideous._ I slid down in the tub, letting my head slip below the surface of the water. I heard Roger knocking on the door, and surfaced to tell him to go away. I stared up at the chipped, water stained and otherwise hideous looking ceiling above the tub. _It's like me…damaged and disgusting. Someone should just put us both out of our misery…_I closed my eyes, drifting lightly off to sleep. I didn't know how I could have possibly fallen asleep again, considering how much I had slept the previous night compared to most nights, at least recently. It was not like me at all to be able to sleep through the night.

I was startled awake feeling water enter my nose and mouth, starting to choke on it, unable to bring myself above the surface, unable to scream…_oh God…please don't let me die like this…Roger! Oh please, Roger, where are you, I need you…_

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I was sitting with Elsie and Mark, who had since woken up, in the living room area, lightly strumming my guitar, talking to her every now and again about the things that interested her, what she had been learning about in school, what she thought of her family (well, Maureen's family, anyway) and other little things…just wanting to get to know my daughter. It had been about forty minutes since I had knocked on the bathroom door, and I was starting to get concerned. I told Mark that I would be right back, and he continued carrying on light conversation with her. The door was locked, as I had expected, but I felt unexplainable fear and panic rising within me. I managed to break the old, rusty lock open, and closed the door quickly, only to find her struggling and flailing in the bathtub, seemingly unable to get herself into a position that would allow her to breathe. She was drowning. I reached into the freezing cold water, pulling her out from within it, laying her out on a towel that I had hastily thrown down, trying to think back to first aid. She was still conscious, and I turned her on her side as she coughed violently, gasping for air. Once she managed to cough up all of the water and breathe normally, she began to shiver violently. I grabbed another towel and wrapped it around her, hugging her close to my body to warm her. I could hear her teeth chattering beside my ear, and rubbed her arms and back until she warmed up.

"Thank you." That was all she said, but she brought her mouth to mine, covering my mouth passionately with hers, pushing up against me. I was confused by this behavior considering how much she had been pushing me away recently, but I reciprocated her emotion, letting her press herself up against me, caressing her naked body the ways that I knew she liked me to, every now and again provoking a guttural moan to escape her lips. After several minutes, we broke apart, both panting.

"Wow. That was…"

"Amazing." Her eyes shone in a way that I hadn't seen since…we had sex in the hospital. I hoped that she had gotten past whatever had been bothering her, though something told me that she hadn't. Maureen dressed herself quickly.

"Maureen…"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm okay! You just saved my life, remember?"

"You weren't trying to…were you?"

"No, silly! I fell asleep in the tub."

"Oh that's so much better! Seriously, Maureen…I'm worried about you. You were so quiet on the way home yesterday, and you wouldn't talk to me again this morning. What's wrong?" Her mask slipped off, revealing fear beneath.

"Rog…I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like I can't just be happy…I'm so scared that we're gonna mess her up, that I'm never going to work things out with him…that he's right…I'm just worthless…" I got the impression that something was still bothering her, but I didn't want to press, because that usually led to fights, which led her beating herself up more.

"He was hurt. He doesn't know you. You are not worthless…we're going to make this work. I promise. Whatever it takes." She sighed and allowed me to take her in my arms. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Let's go out there. Maybe we can take her to the park today?"

"I think that would be good." I smiled down at her as she leaned her head back to look up at me. I kissed her forehead and helped her up.

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"Hey Mark, we're gonna take Elsie to the park, so she can see what it's like here…you know, the environment." He looked at me skeptically, and I knew that it was probably one of the worst environments to be raising a child in, but we needed time to get some money together before we could move. I shot him a look. "Do you wanna come with us, you know, do some filming?" He nodded enthusiastically.

"Would you guys mind if, maybe, I film you? Like, together, as a family?"

"That would be great, Mark. Thank you." I hugged him quickly, and Elsie jumped up from where she was seated beside him. I kissed the top of her head and told her to go put her shoes on.

"She's a great kid, Mo. And she really loves you." I sighed.

"I know. It scares me. What if I mess up?" He looked me over, not believing what I was saying.

"Maureen, you are going to be a great mother. And Roger's going to be a great father. Collins and I are always here to help you guys out, and Joanne…well, she'll come around eventually, I'm sure of it. She loves you too much, as a friend I mean, to abandon you. Mimi will come around to. We just need to give them some time. It'll work out." I nodded.

"Thanks, Mark. I needed that." Roger had now emerged from his room, wearing dry clothes being that in his saving me from drowning, I had completely soaked him. We put on our shoes and grabbed our coats, I took Elsie's hand in mine, and we started out walking around the East Village. While the town that Roger and I had grown up in wasn't exactly heaven, the East Village was far scarier and less safe to live in. I mean, even without all of the homeless people and the tent city, it was still plagued with druggies and dealers and every now and again a gang. Elsie seemed completely taken by the venders screaming out, trying to sell things. She was very curious about this new place, the one that, for now, she would call home. She didn't seem frightened, though, for which I was immensely grateful. We would run along randomly, run through the park, skipping, dancing, laughing, singing…it was the most fun that I had had in a long time, and made me realize how incredible being a mother could be, how much I had missed her presence in my life. Roger joined in, and Elsie seemed to be accepting him, he was her dad, and it seemed in this moment that it had always been that way, that she had always known him. Mark was following along, keeping up with us, filming practically everything that we did. Once I even took the camera from him and made him go play with Els and Roger. He went begrudgingly, warning me not to break it, but the three of them were adorable together. Everything seemed perfect, and we were all truly happy. I only hoped that it could stay like this…

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**AN:** Sorry the update took a while.This chapter's a little weird, I think...please tell me your opinion! Input and feedback always welcomed, criticism greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading this! Don't forget to leave a review! 


	14. Chapter 14

**AN:** Yay-- great feedback last chapter! Sorry the update took a while. I tried my hand at Elsie's POV, but I'm not sure what I think of it or how well it works, plus I'm not so sure about the way I'm writing her...comments and critiques would be greatly appreciated!

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We returned to the loft around nine that night, after quickly grabbing something to eat at the Life. Miraculously, among the three adults, we managed to come up with exactly the amount that we needed. _How the hell are we gonna support this kid? I guess we are both gonna need jobs…I hope that'll bring in enough cash…and I hope Benny stops being such an ass about the rent…_

Maureen was sitting on the couch, looking through a newspaper to see if there were any job offerings that she could go out for, not seeming to have much luck given her lack of skills and the apparent lack of need for wedding singers and waitresses around the city. I didn't know how that could even be possible—look at how many restaurants there are! She yawned, her eyelids drooping shut as she lost the battle with sleep. I laughed softly from where I stood in the kitchen area, chatting lightly about the day with Mark. Elsie was sleeping on the couch beside Maureen, where she had been ever since we walked through the door, it seemed, still wearing her coat and shoes. I removed her coat and shoes and tucked her into her bed, kissing her on the forehead and lingering for a moment to watch her.

I went back out into the main area to deal with Maureen. I sat down beside her, causing the couch to sink slightly more, which seemed to startle her, although she didn't wake up fully—her eyes opened briefly and shut again. It was so unlike her to be this tired all the time! She seemed really happy today, and this only served to make me more suspicious that something was bothering her, knowing full well that wearing that happy mask all the time certainly took a lot out of her, having known Maureen for practically my entire life.

I lifted her gently from the couch, tucking her into her bed much in the same way as I had Elsie. It was killing me that Maureen wasn't talking to me about whatever it was that was bothering her, but clearly she thought that she could handle it. _Maybe I shouldn't pry…_I didn't want her to be made at me, or look like an idiot if it did in fact turn out to be something that she could handle, but given her behavior in the past, and her bad coping mechanisms, it was only natural to worry.

I sat by her window, watching the way that the pale blue moonlight illuminated her well defined features. _She is so beautiful…I can't believe that she is truly mine. I'll never let her go…we've been through so much, sacrificed so much to be with one another…this has to work._

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I awoke very early the next morning to see Roger watching me tiredly from my window seat, which caused a faint smile to spread across my lips. The sun wasn't out yet, but I could tell that it was morning. I glanced at the clock to see that it was four thirty.

"What're you doing up this early?" My voice came out even raspier than usual, and I felt a slight soreness in my throat, which caused me to pout. When Roger spoke, his voice sounded very much the same as mine, and I began to worry that he could be getting sick.

"I didn't sleep last night." I frowned, sitting up, now fully awake.

"What's wrong, Rog?"

"Why don't you tell me?" I sensed that he was incensed, although he seemed more concerned and frustrated than angry, which was a good thing, I supposed—at least he probably wouldn't go off on me…_I shouldn't think like that. It only happened once, and he said that he wouldn't ever do it again…_

"Maureen!" He roared my name with such force that I began to wonder if he really would stand by his promise. I cowered. "I'm sorry Mo…I just…it's so frustrating. I didn't mean to scare you. I just want you to talk to me, that's all." He moved closer to me, and though he demeanor was softer now, I was still unsure if I should trust him or not. Mercifully, at that moment, the phone rang. We screened.

"SPEEEEEEEAK!"

"Um…uh…Maureen? It's Ben. Uh…maybe this isn't the--"

"Hey Ben! What's up?"

"Dad…um…he…uh…"

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" I was beginning to get slightly concerned, though I didn't know what my father could have possibly done, though I wouldn't have ruled anything out…

"I'm fine, but dad's not. He got shot." My heart was in my throat, and I was having difficulty comprehending his words. It was strange to me to be feeling so much pain over this evil man being shot, but it hurt. Not as much as when April or Angel had died by any stretch of the imagination, but around the same as when my grandmother had passed. But I actually liked her…

"Is he…uh…going to be okay?"

"Maureen, he died." _Oh my god…_

"Do you want me--"

"Please? Can you?"

"Okay…I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I'm at the house. I don't know where mom went."

"Don't worry, sweetie, I'm coming." Roger, who looked even more concerned than previously, which I hadn't even imagined possible, was standing behind me, and I practically slammed into him as I rushed to get my things together.

"Maureen?" Tears were streaming down my face, though I wasn't exactly sure of why. I didn't think it was because of my father's death…maybe because poor Ben was utterly alone through this…and so soon after our grandmother had died.

"My dad…died." I was concerned that he would say something inappropriate, which I assumed was in response to my crying, but I was grateful. He embraced me lovingly, somehow understanding what I needed. Elsie emerged from her bedroom yawning, confused at all the racket so early in the morning, and upon seeing me crying in the arms of Roger, who was trying to soothe me, looked scared and worried.

"Mommy, what happened?" I couldn't seem to remember how to speak, so Roger filled her in, and she came over to me and hugged me. I held her tightly, silently promising to myself never to mistreat her, never wanting her to have to feel the confusion, hurt, anger and hatred that I felt, or for her to be alone when Roger inevitably died…

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I couldn't understand why Mommy was so angry with herself for being upset that her dad died. I mean, I've only known my dad for a little while, but I don't know what I would do if he died…I mean, death is for good…but I guess he was really mean to mommy and he didn't care about her. She keeps saying that she didn't even know him and she lived in his house for the first eighteen years of her life, and she can't understand how he could possibly be her father. Maybe that's because she didn't know him. That makes sense to me. The car ride back to my grandma's house (I guess it belongs to her anyway…) was really long. I didn't really want to go, but I wanted to be with Mommy because I loved her and I wanted to make sure that she knew that. It always scared me when she was sad, but she was being really quiet and kept staring into space. Like, one minute I'd be talking to her, and all of a sudden she'd shake her and apologize, and tell me to repeat my story. After a while, I just gave up and put my head in her lap.

I fell asleep, but I didn't know that I had until I woke up again, when we were there. I looked at Mommy's face, and it looked like she had been crying a lot, and I felt really bad for her, but I didn't know what to do, so I just hugged her, wishing that everything would be okay and she would stop crying, but for some reason it made her cry harder, but she hugged me really tightly, saying that she would never leave me or treat me badly. I didn't understand why she was saying this, but pretended that I did, knowing it was probably just because I was little.

I remember Mommy telling me when I was really little that she never wanted me to grow up, and I remember being so scared of growing up, not wanting to ever get any older. I still am, and I'm so scared that maybe she won't love me if I grow up, kind of like the way my old neighbors threw their dogs out on the street when they weren't cute, fuzzy little puppies anymore. I didn't want to get thrown out. I never told Mommy about this, because I was scared that she would think that I was dumb, or maybe that because I am so little, maybe I didn't understand. I didn't want to look foolish. Instead, I kept acting like the way that I always had when I used to live with Mommy, thinking that maybe when she left it had been because I was growing up, and she didn't want me anymore. I always felt so much younger than everyone else in my class, which was a little bit because I was small for my age, but also because I guess I never learned how to make friends. I didn't really care. I just wanted to be a good little girl so that Mommy would come back. I imagined different ways that it would happen when she came back, every day I would stare at her picture so that I wouldn't forget her face when she came back. I was smarter than everyone else thought I was…I didn't let them know that I liked to read and write, or that I liked learning—especially new words. I thought that would be too grown-up.

Even after I knew that Mommy went to go live with Daddy, I still felt like maybe that wasn't the whole truth…I guess you could say I have and active imagination. Today I wanted to act different, I wanted to be grown-up so that she would tell me what was wrong and I could try to make it better. I wanted her to be happy. Frustrated, I ran up to the door, and when Uncle Ben opened the door, I jumped into his arms. Mommy and Daddy were hugging by the car in the driveway, Mommy was crying and Daddy was rubbing her back and trying to make her calm down. Uncle Ben looked worried about Mom, but he tried not to show it to me. I didn't make a big deal of it. I just wanted everyone to be happy, and for things to settle down. I wondered how Grandma could stand to lose Grandpa. I mean, even though nobody else in the family seemed to like the two of them, I thought they were deeply in love with one another. I wonder how they met and fell in love. I hoped Grandma was going to be okay by herself, especially if Uncle Ben came with us, because I knew that Mom was thinking about that, because she didn't want to force him to stay there. Even though Mommy hated her mom, I couldn't understand how she could possibly not care. I love Mommy more than anyone else in the world, and I would die if anything that awful happened to her…


	15. Chapter 15

**AN:** Wow, sorry, long time no update! This isn't that interesting, but I'll have more up tomorrow or the next day. I'm leaving Sat. for Maine, though, so probably no updatesfor at least a week after that. PLEASE COMMENT! You were SOOO great with the last chapter! Oh, and if anyone is reading Living In America, PLEASE comment the most recent chapter...it only got one review! But mostly, keep up the good work with this story! The next update will probably be a billion times better...but review this one first :) Happy reading.

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When I finally found the strength to separate from Roger, I walked towards the house, seeing my daughter clinging to Ben for dear life. _I can't believe that she is so perceptive…_Elsie had always been incredible that way, knowing when something was wrong. I'm still convinced that she knew that I was leaving her before I had even decided it myself. She had been sweet about it, too, and sounded very adult. "_It's okay, mommy, you have to go. It's gonna be all better someday even though it makes me sad that you are leaving…"_ Though I was completely distraught, I couldn't help but smile at my little girl's intuition.

"Hey honey, can you leave me and Uncle Ben alone for a while?" She glanced at me, and then nodded slowly.

"I'll just go talk to Dad." She jumped down from his arms, and I tousled her hair as she walked away. I embraced my brother tightly, feeling a rush of emotions that I couldn't quite differentiate running throughout my body, and he held onto me for dear life. I whispered in his ear,

"Sweetie…I'm so sorry you had to go through this…I'm so glad that you called me, I don't want you to have to suffer by yourself." I felt him clutch me a little tighter, which caused tears to spring to my eyes. His body was shaking and convulsing in my arms, which actually relieved me because he had been so long holding back. "Aww, honey…" When he finally pulled away from me, his face was red and splotchy, his eyes bloodshot.

"It was so bizarre…he got shot…two in the morning. Apparently he was…at some…hooker's place…this guy was tailing him…just so happened to also be her pimp or whatever. Apparently there was a plan for assassinating him."

"So Dad fucked over some poor shmoe, then fucked his girl? Un-fucking-believable." Ben nodded, though I could still sense that he was upset that Dad was gone. I cocked my head and was about to ask him about it when he offered,

"I know that it's ridiculous, but I always believed that someday he would come to his senses and be the father that we both wanted so badly, that he would realize the error of his ways. I wanted to get to know him, maybe understand why he did some of the things that he did, but now I'll never know. He was our _father_, Maureen, for better or worse, don't you feel anything?" I contemplated this for a long moment.

"I guess I'm upset that he died, but…he didn't mean anything to me, really. I don't know. I feel something, I just…maybe it is only because I would be an unfeeling person not to be upset about my father dying, but mostly I feel badly for you…it's so…sad. You've been through so much, I never should have left you, I was supposed to protect you! I failed you." Te anger on his face transformed to a look of utter confusion.

"It wasn't your job to save me…I have never felt let down by you…I mean, you did a few careless things, but…I mean…even through all the shit you did, I still loved you and idolized you, even after the madness before you left. You were always so brave, strong and independent. At the end, I could see that you were in pain, but I didn't know how to cope. I…uh…didn't mean all the shit I said last time. I needed an outlet for my anger. You were right there." I nodded, understanding.

"I know you feel betrayed, though. I could see it in your eyes, in that fury. Even now I can see the hurt, and I'm sorry…and…when you called, I was actually thinking about you. Ever since I left, my having left you behind was really getting to me…it was all I could think about. I was going to call you…and ask…do you want to come with us? Live at the loft? I mean…I don't know how well it'll go over with mom, but she's never even here anyway…but I can't come back here and there is no way that I would be able to live with myself if I left you again." He blinked at me, at first not seeming to have processed what I had asked, but then a slow smile crept across his face.

"You want me to live with you in New York?" I nodded.

"I know it's not the best place to grow up, but for goodness' sake, any place is better than this dump, even a crappy loft in the East Village. It's dangerous and not always comfortable, and there are _really_ trying times, but we have such a supportive network of friends, a real family, if you will. You won't ever find that here." He nodded in utter agreement.

"There is nothing loving or nurturing about this place. And with the money grandma left us, you guys should be pretty well set for a while, not to mention what we almost certainly got from dad." Although my father had never been a good father, he had always been generous with funds, and anytime I _really_ needed money, I could I ask him, I knew. I just wanted to make it on my own. Besides, having extra money tempted me to buy booze and drugs.

"Oh that's right! I had forgotten about that. I'm trying to find a job, but it seems easier said than done. It's not even like my sights are set high—if it pays, I'll do it…well, except prostitution. Been there, done that." He laughed, and the mood seemed completely lightened, although the prospect of speaking to my mother again left a lingering black cloud in the back of my mind…


	16. Chapter 16

**AN:** Sorry for the wait, again. This chapter's pretty long, and I hope you like it! Thanks for continuing to read it, and don't forget to review!

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I took my daughter outside of the house, and we sat on the stoop.

"Hey daddy?" She was looking at me very intently, like she had something serious that she wanted to discuss.

"Yeah babe?"

"Why does Mom hate her dad so much? I mean, I know he was a really bad dad to her and all, but I don't understand how she could be mad that she's upset. Aren't most people sad when someone that they don't know that well dies?" I turned so that we were facing each other.

"Well, that's a feeling that I hope you never have to deal with, because I hope that I can be a good father to you. She doesn't want to care because she doesn't think that he deserves it because he wasn't much more than an acquaintance to her, all he did was give her money, because he thought that would make it okay not to love her."

"What's an acquaintance?"

"It's somebody that you don't know very well, but you know who they are and stuff." She nodded.

"If I was an accident like Mommy was, how come you love me and her parents didn't love her?" I sighed.

"Because, Elsie—look at me, really listen, and don't ever forget this—because your Mom and I love each other very much, and if your Mom had told me about you, I would have been right there for you guys. We don't think of you as a mistake, but more as a blessing. Do you know why?" She shook her head. "You are a blessing because you brought your Mom and I back together, because we were to dumb to realize we were still in love by ourselves. You're a little angel." She thought for a moment.

"Does that mean that Mom's parents didn't love each other?" Tough question.

"Well…they loved each other the best that they could. But all they wanted out of life was money and for people to like them. I don't think they really knew what love was."

"I still don't get why Mom didn't tell you that she was pregnant with me. That's kind of stupid of her." I looked at her sort of severely.

"Hey—don't say things like that about your mother, especially not when she's around. People make mistakes, and I know you understand that, but your mother is very emotional and a lot of the time she thinks she is stupid. I wish that she had told me, too, but I didn't really give her a chance to. We had a lack of communication, and it was sad, but it happens a lot to people because people can read each other's minds. She was going through I really tough time, and she was afraid I would leave if she told me, and I was afraid that she was going to kill herself and leave me at the same time my father caught my mother cheating on him. We both had too much to deal with, so we pushed each other away. Does that make sense?" She nodded. I was right in knowing that Maureen gives her too little credit in terms of what she is mature enough to understand and how developed she is. But it has been a rough adjustment for the two of them, and I do think things have improved the tiniest since we first started seeing her.

"Hey Dad?"

"What's up sweetie?" She moved towards me and flung her arms around me, clinging to me somewhat desperately.

"I love you, and I would be very sad if you died." My heart hurt, knowing that I would likely die before she was Ben's age. I hoped to God that I would make it until she was old enough to understand, but I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind.

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After a few hours, my mother still hadn't come home, and though I hated her guts, I was starting to get worried about her—she _was_ still my mother, after all. Elsie was sleeping on Benji's bed. Even though she couldn't completely understand the complexities of the situation, I knew that it had been stressful for her. Roger and Ben were talking, and I was struggling to pay attention to what they were saying, but I was preoccupied by thinking about my mother. Had been so terrible to her, but it wasn't like she ever really cared about me, either. Benji was her perfect baby, the treasure child—the one that they had actually intended to have. I was just an accident. But just because she loved Ben more didn't mean that she treated him any differently on a normal basis—I don't think she ever really knew how to.

I don't know how she ended up so differently from my grandmother. I guess she probably rebelled like I did. She wanted the prim and proper, she wanted high society. I rebelled against that…although I still believe that what I am standing up for is right. I think the difference between myself and my mother is that I actually rebelled believing I was doing the right thing. She is more superficial than I am…which is evident from the things that she wanted.

"Hey, Benj?" He turned from Roger, who was in the middle of saying something, and looked at me inquisitively, "Sorry to interrupt, but do you have any idea where mom might be?" He now looked confused.

"No, why?" I shrugged.

"No reason. I'm just a little concerned on a human level because I have seen what grief can do to people, and I'd rather not have her kill herself…or do something else stupid. But more than that, I just wanna talk to her so we can get the fuck out of here."

"Well, she has a cell phone. You can try calling it, but I don't know if she'll pick up…" I nodded.

"Do you have the number?" He went over to the Rolodex and took out the card with the number on it. Only my mother would keep a Rolodex card of _her own_ phone number. I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone. I dialed the number and slipped the card into my pocket. The phone rang four times before she answered. She sounded drunk as hell, and completely out of it.

"Hello?" She mumbled.

"Mom?"

"Maureen?" She seemed completely surprised that it was me. "How did you get this number?" She sounded vaguely angry, but mostly confused.

"Mom, I'm at the house. Ben called me and told me what happened." I could almost see her snarl.

"Of course he did, of course…the little bastard." My jaw dropped.

"You weren't even going to tell me that my father DIED?" She laughed too loudly, obnoxiously.

"You didn't deserve to know…you…_whore_." I locked my jaw and forced myself to stay calm.

"Mom, where are you?"

"Jesus Christ, you'd think you'd never lived here. There's only one fucking bar in town. You figure it out, if you're such a smart little bitch...or better yet, whatchoo want, huh? I know you don't _really_ give a flying fuck about dear old mom." I cleared my throat nervously.

"I um…" my voice came out softly, I sounded like a small, scared child. "I was wondering if…uh…Ben could…comelivewithme."

"What was that?"

"I WAS WONDERING IF YOUR SON COULD LIVE WITH ME." I was irritated now, and I knew I was being juvenile, but who isn't when addressing a parent?

"What, in your whorehouse?" She apparently found herself completely hilarious.

"I am not a whore, mother. I am a waitress or a performer. Roger and I have a steady income, and our daughter lives with us, too. We are going to move soon into a better neighborhood when we can afford it. I love my family, and I make sure I take care of them, unlike _you_. You leave your fucking son alone after his father is murdered and don't even tell your daughter he is dead? What the fuck is wrong with you? And why can't you show affection to your children? Why is that so hard?" She paused for a moment, and it sounded like she fell off her barstool.

"Fine. Take him. I'll sign over my damn rights to you. He's worthless, anyway."

"What right do you have to call anyone worthless? What do you have? A house? Whoop-dee-frickin'-do. We're leaving now. I'll leave my lawyer's card in your Rolodex." With that, I hung up the phone forcefully. Roger cam up behind me and rubbed my shoulders.

"You okay, Mo?" I whipped around furiously.

"What fucking right does she have? Calling me a frickin' whore! What does she know about me? She doesn't give a damn about me." He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, rubbing my back.

"Shh…it's okay. It's all right. Nothing she can do matters. You're okay." I took a deep breath and shook it off. I went over to Ben and smiled, hugging him.

"Okay little bro, pack your stuff up and let's get out of this hellhole." He hugged me, holding me a little tighter, not wanting to let go, and I could feel how much he needed me. "Hey…" I said, pushing him back a bit so I could look him in the eye, "It's all gonna be better now, okay?" I pulled him in for another quick hug, then tousled his hair, "Now, get a move on so we can leave, okay?" I winked at him, and he went on his way.

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I went up to my room slowly. I was honestly a little intimidated by the prospect of living with my sister, since I have always idolized her as much as I do. I guess I feel like maybe I'm not good enough, maybe she will kick me to the curb or something. I know that this is irrational; I know that she loves me, but I felt so abandoned when she left me the first time. I know logically that had nothing to do with me, but I can't help but feel in my heart that I must have done something wrong.

Maureen was always much more of a mother to me than my mom ever was, and more of a mother than a big sister, although I supposed that if the job's done well, there isn't much difference. She saw that Mom wasn't providing adequate care, and most of the time did a good job…until all the craziness started.

I opened the door gently, finding Elsie still asleep on my bed, just as I had expected. I walked over silently and tickled her gently, which woke her up. She has the most adorable giggle in the world.

"Uncle Benji! STOP IT!" Of course I didn't, but instead I scooped her up in my arms and spun her around in a circle before putting her down. She was laughing so hard that he face was turning red and she fell down. I pulled her up from the ground.

"Hey Els, wanna help me pack?" She nodded enthusiastically.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm coming to live with you guys—what do you think about that?" Her eyes lit up.

"That's gonna be so much fun! I missed you." I squatted down to her level.

"I missed you too, Munchkin."

"Stop calling me that!" I tickled her again.

"Oh yeah? Why not?"

"Okay, fine! Just stop tickling me!" We got to work, and threw my clothes and a few other things into my big duffel bag—pillows, sheets, towels, money, notebook, walkman and the few tapes I had. And I grabbed my backpack, which had some books, another notebook, and some pens. We downstairs, and the four of us went out to the car. I sat next to Els in the back seat, who fell asleep on my lap after about five minutes, and we journeyed towards to New York City, the center of the Universe, my anxiety and excitement growing. Maureen turned and reached an arm out, and squeezed my knee.

"I'm so glad you're with us, bro. I really missed you. I promise things will get better soon." I smiled back at her.

"Thanks for letting me come with you, Momo. I missed you, too. Thanks for everything you've done—I love you."

"Aww…I love you too." Then she turned around again. I pulled out my sketchpad and started to create.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note:** Yay, another update! I hope it isn't too retarded, I was really tired writing Benji's part, which I wrote as an afterthought. I really hope that you like it! Don't forget to review! (Incidentally, your reviews were AMAZING las chapter. Keep it up! I'm so glad that you guys are liking it so far!)

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Benj took up residence in Benny's old room, which I thought was slightly bizarre, and kind of creepy, honestly, but at least it worked out that he had somewhere to stay and didn't have to share a room with Elsie or something, although he spent a lot of time with her, nonetheless. It was refreshing to see how much he truly cared about her.

When we got back to the loft, Mark wasn't there, so obviously we assumed that he was out filming, not having seen him that day since he wasn't awake when my brother called. I carried a still sleeping Elsie up to the loft and laid her out on the couch, assuming that she wouldn't be out for that long. The light on the answering machine was beeping, so I played back the message. It was Benny.

"Hey, uh, I know that it is weird for me to be calling, but I haven't received a rent payment from Mimi in a while, and I have called her place a lot, but she never calls back. I'm starting to worry about her. Apparently she hasn't been in to work in a while either, so uh…if you hear anything, just give me a call."

Roger and I just stared at each other in utter disbelief, obviously fearing the worst since it hadn't been all that long since Mimi's first flirt with death, and odds were pretty low that she would survive another ordeal like the first. We hoped that she wouldn't have been stupid enough to do the same thing again…but honestly, what did she have to live for now? I stole her entire reason for living…

Benji startled me.

"Hey, Reen, do you…what's wrong?" I looked at him blankly.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"Are you okay?" I blinked and looked at Roger, who looked stunned and concerned, clearly hating himself for what he had done, and looking ready to bolt out the door. Benji followed my gaze. "What's going on here?" I cleared my throat.

"Well, uh…one of our…friends has…uh…gone missing…"

"Um, okay…" I cut him off.

"It's not the first time this has happened…and last time she almost died because she…she…"

"She has AIDS," Roger stated plainly and simply, "just like me." Ben's jaw dropped, practically to the floor.

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I didn't know what to think when Roger revealed that he was HIV positive, especially because of the detached, automatic way in which he regarded it. I guess he is just resigned to the fact that sooner or later, I presume he anticipates sooner, it is going to do him in. The only question I have, then, is why did he decide to come into Elsie's life if he is just going to die anyway? Isn't that sort of selfish? I mean, I guess it is good for her that she at least gets to meet her father and spend time with him, because I know that is something that would grow up resenting, and I really am happy for Maureen that she got her one true love back, but it is depressing.

It was utterly shocking to find out that not only did my sister have a missing friend who had already almost died from a similar situation go missing, but additionally that her lover is plagued by the same disease. I know that there is a lot that has happened—a lot of really serious, unpleasant and downright grim details—that I don't know about yet, but I have a feeling that one by one I am going to be introduced to these closet skeletons. I wish, for Maureen's sake, that things had been different with Roger. I wish that he hadn't run away from her, and I guess I still don't really understand why he did it. I don't hate him, I just think that it is going to be a little bit difficult to fully accept him, but since Mo is so completely in love with him, I am going to have to give it my best shot, because I want to support her and make her feel wanted for once in my life. No more petty fighting.

I am trying really hard not to judge Roger based on the fact that he has AIDS. I know that it is because of all of the drugs that he used to do, although I don't know when exactly he got it. I guess it must have been after he ran away, considering that my sister isn't infected, and she had sex with him—I mean, they have a daughter, for crying out loud! I'm not sure how the pregnancy happened, whether it was recklessness or a broken condom (I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt), but I do have to say that ultimately, I am glad that Maureen took the pregnancy to term and more or less kept Elsie—it has brought so much happiness, and reunited Maureen and Roger and Maureen and myself. She really was a miracle. That being said, it has been a rough road for all of us, and I think that we were really lucky with the way that things have worked out so far. I guess I will just have to say generally that I'm glad that things have worked out this way, because really no one factor determined any of this. I guess it was just fate, or whatever you want to call it.

I watched Roger and Maureen, their chemistry, the way that they seemed to each know exactly what the other needed without use of words, their eyes seemed to allow their souls to freely connect, and if ever I have seen two people who were made for each other, the two of them were just that. I was glad to see that Maureen has gotten her life together considerably, which sounds odd coming from her younger brother, but she seems truly happy. I watched her grab Roger's hand desperately, seeking solace, to which he embraced her lovingly and seemed to calm her down instantaneously. It was incredible watching the two of them together—it seemed almost magical. Even though this was a terrible situation, I couldn't help but smile to myself at what a perfect match they were. Ever since having seeing that, I have been wholly convinced that soul mates do exist, and there are definitely people who are meant to be together. Prior to that, I had been a complete skeptic. I watched them walk out the door, his arm around her protectively, her arm around his waist for stability and reassurance.

I sat down in the chair in the living room area of the loft and took a good look around, and a deep breath. It was by far one of the most run-down places that I had ever been to in my life, actually I think is was the worst by far, but there was an atmosphere of love that lingered in the air. It was very homey in a very basic sort of way, which is probably due to the things that are strewn randomly throughout the loft. There are posters, lyrics, photographs of what I presume to be their "family", concert and stage reviews from things that Roger and Maureen have done, just random things. I think I can deal with this, that I will get accustomed relatively quickly. The lack of air conditioning and heat might be a little hard, but overall, I think that as long as I am with my sister, the only person in the world who has ever really loved me, I will be okay. I looked down at Elsie, who stirred slightly in her sleep—she was so adorable. She was the person for whom we were all trying to work this out. And as of right now, I am confident that it will. I took in the dirty floor, broken windows and couch, and everything else about the run-down place and stated genuinely,

"Home, sweet home." I breathed in deeply through my nose again, taking in the unique smell of the place. It wasn't as foul as one might imagine. It smelled comfortable, familiar yet at the same time new and strange. I could identify the individual scent of my sister, which was warm and comforting—I had spent many days and nights curled up against her, hiding from my parents when I was really young. I had all but forgotten them, but the scent reminded me. For once in my life, I actually felt that there was hope for things to improve. I pulled out my sketchpad again, feeling inspired.

rrrrrrROGERrrrrrrrrrr

Mimi's disappearance came as a shock to me, although maybe it shouldn't have…I mean, I did beg her to hang on to life before dumping her for Maureen, but honestly I wouldn't have done it if I had known that she was really going to come back—which isn't to say that I wanted her to die--I was going to tell her earlier about us, but then she went missing the first time, and everything got messed up, then by time I saw her again, she was dying. And I couldn't have told her when she was dying—that's just insensitive. I should really just stop thinking because I am making myself sound like a dick.

I tried to bolt out the door before Maureen could catch me, but the way that she looked at me—through her eyes, I could tell that she was afraid that I was going to leave her. It seemed kind of ludicrous to me at the time, but in retrospect, I suppose it was reasonable considering the odd situation that we had caused in needing to be with one another again. I was glued to the spot as long as those big, green eyes were locked with mine—and somehow I couldn't break the gaze. So I waited for her.

I didn't mean to sound so cold and uncaring when I told Ben that I was positive. Honestly, the tone of voice that it came out in even chilled _me_ to the bone. But why shouldn't it have been? It's a scary thing. I'm kind of interested to see what his perception of me is now that he knows this, but right now the most important thing is finding Mimi. She _is_ still one of my best friends…or at least, I think she is.

Maureen and I left Ben to look after Elsie while we were out, which he agreed to right off the bat. I know he understands—at least intellectually—the seriousness of the situation. He wished us luck, and Maureen made sure he had her cell phone number, in case for some reason he needed it, and she took my hand, squeezing it tightly, looking into my eyes with utter terror radiating from her own. I hugged her warmly and rubbed her back, soothing her, calming her until she was able to function again, and we took off.


End file.
